Thank God, the school finally re-opened on the 12th of November. It didn’t last that long, as yaanom had wanted.
Just that first week, I managed to find Zainab at the supermarket. Time no dey.
@Kaunda: Oh you didn’t call me, and unfortunately, the school was closed because of the impasse.
@Zainab: I don’t have a phone oo, oh so you don’t believe me.
@Kaunda: Oh no! I believe you. I said you should use someone’s phone to flash me, and I will call back. Just flash, Kaunda will call. I have a Yam phone I will give to you so you can use it in the meantime.
@Zainab: Oh ok! I didn’t get that. I will find a friend’s phone and call you today.
@Kaunda: Ok! I will be waiting. Do it today oo.
@Zainab: OK, I will do that.
[“Hmm, so she didn’t even get the message right when I gave her my number. And I spent the entire day waiting, and even dreaming about her, and finally got the “Kambuu Message”.] – I said to myself. Hmmm.
I bought the Waakye and left.
I waited the whole day and night; still in vain. She didn’t call.
Ah, what might be happening? I asked myself.
The next Wednesday, I rushed there again, full vim.
“Please write your number for me again. I misplaced it,” she said right when she saw me. She felt guilty for not calling, I realized. I did as she requested, bought my unwanted Waakye, and left.
“Hopefully, she will call today,” I said to myself as I walked back to the office. Unfortunately, two days after, still no call. A week after, still no call.
Ah! This is getting scary, if not annoying, I said to myself.
Honestly, it got me thinking:
“Maybe she is not that type? She is not comfortable using a friend’s phone to call? She’s the shy type. OR she is just not ready to call? Why did she misplace the number in the first place? She didn’t value it?”
So many thoughts ran through my mind.
“Why not get her that Yam phone, instead of telling her to use a friend’s phone? Is that a good decision? No, Kaunda, you are Udiot, go get her the phone.”
That sounded like a good idea, so I endorsed my thinking.
Next Saturday, I gallantly stepped into a phone shop and proudly bought Techno T349, at a cost of 60GH.
Features:
-
FM
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Snake Game
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Supports Two SIMs
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Touch Light
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Color screen
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Screen saver
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Flight Mode
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Calculator
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Alarm
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Bluetooth
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Calendar
Quite a lot of features!
Below is the pink sheet.
I’ve erased her name because it’s not yet time to know it (Zainab is just a placeholder. That is not her real name). I assumed I will marry her, so I’ve already added my name to hers.
Now, back to the phone’s features.
Not even my first phone ever used had those powerful features. My first phone had far fewer features than this, but I enjoyed it, especially the Snake Game in it. That phone was my pet until it was finally stolen by a Kumasi guy who was smarter than Wamfie Negga.
How?
One evening, after murdering my TZ from Mma Abeeba at Magazine, I decided to pass by an Internet Café and search for clients (if you know what I mean). I bought 30min airtime and started searching for Mugu on Skype.
As I browsed, a gentleman came to sit by me and pretended he knew me. Instantly, I became alert! Coming from Wamfie, I’m smart already!
He asked for my apotro Motorola (Motorola C15) to make a call. For sure, he can’t run away with it. I looked at his stature, it was cool. I could beat him hands down if the need arose. So I gave it out but kept my eyes on him.
10min later, he stood up:
“Masa, where are you going with my phone?” I asked him.
“Oh, I’m asking the Café attendant sometimes. I’m not a bad guy oo. Where do you stay? I’m shocked you don’t know me,” he said.
“I stay at Kotoko, here in Suame. Adjacent the NDC party office,” I replied.
“Ah, just Kotoko here and you don’t know me. The mosque opposite the NDC office, that’s my family house. Do you know Razak in that house?” He asked.
Kaunda: No, I don’t know him.
What about “Jalil”?
Kaunda: No, I don’t know him.
“And Majeed?”
Kaunda: “Naa, I don’t know anyone here. I’m just a month old in Kumasi. I’m from Broni Krome, Wamfie, in the far-away Dormaa East District of Bono Ahafo Region.” – I finally opened Pandora’s box, and I think that broke the camel’s back.
“Ganiima, I’ve got booty,” he might have said in his mind.
Knowing he’s not a stranger, I concentrated on my browsing. A few minutes later, I turned to check on him, and truly, he was talking and laughing with the Café attendant.
I finally got convinced that this dude is not a bad guy.
I turned 5min later, and he had disappeared. Nothing shook me. “He might have stepped out to make his call or buy ice water,” I said. I exhausted my time, topped up 30min, and exhausted that too.
Now, it’s time to go home. Where is the guy?
As Adamu Maame, Aunti Fati, will say: “Wala doolina.” He’s gone!
I took someone’s phone to try my number:
“The number you are calling is currently switched off. Please try again later,” MTN foolishly told me.
That’s it; the phone is gone, for good.
Welcome to Kumasi!
That was indeed a terrible “Welcome,” but on the flip side, it opened my eyes 360 degrees, for good.
That happened in 2008, and to date, I’ve always been alert! I’ve never been 419-ed anywhere again, except 2015, when I made a triumphant entry into Circle, Accra, to buy a phone.
In the early morning of that day, I bathed, dressed, passed my fingers through my hair (to make it a little dread). I put on my cap and turned it backward, pulled my trouser a little down, stood in the mirror, and was happy with my appearance.
“A complete Negga! A Gee from Osei Krom. Otumfour Nanaa, ba koowa!” – I said to myself while watching myself in the mirror.
To trade at Circle, one must appear like a gangster, and I looked like one. Even on my way, while in trotro, I nearly caused “commotion,” all in an attempt to appear like a “Negga” who can’t be cheated.
Finally, with 90gh in my secured pocket, I got to Circle, right opposite the Vodafone Office, in front of the Filling Station. I planned to buy the phone, and I must get a quality one.
In a real shop, Samsung X2 cost around 600gh then, but this Negga said he was selling it for 120gh, and he was even ready to negotiate.
Earlier, a very smallish guy had shown me a different phone, but I wasn’t enthused.
“Some people just be fools. We wey we get small bodies dey, no kam buy from we. You go go buy from some macho man wey he go san attack you,” the smallish guy said jealously.
I didn’t mind him. That isn’t going to push me to buy from him. I’m alert, no one can package soap for me as a phone.
I told the X2 Negga I’ll give him 50gh.
Real Negga: Make am 100gh. Ibe fresh oo, everything dey job. Afi gwele make u put ur own SIM for in. U go fi bell your line see.
He took my number and called my phone using the X2.
Real Negga: Hello
Fake Negga (Kaunda): Hello
Real Negga: Do you hear me?
Fake Negga: Yeahh, e cool.
We did small communication just to make sure the mouth pin works. I tested the camera, did one or two selfies, just to make sure all functionalities were OK.
“Boosu, ago make am 80gh,” I said, in a negga way, mouth twisted.
“No yawa, bot take my number. Anytime you go hia new phone biaa, u fi hala me,” he said.
From this statement, I suspected the guy is a Nigerian. Instead of “but” he said “bot,” but that is irrelevant to the transaction going on between us. All I needed was my phone, and I was very much alert, so it won’t turn to Keysoap.
He tried wrapping it, but I rejected that move. He handed it to me, and I gave him his 80gh peacefully.
And in split second, as I tried to remove his SIM, he snatched it. He then dipped his hand into his pocket, removed Blackberry RIM 957, and dropped it in my hand, like a chamber pot.
“Ibe this ur money go fi buy,” he said as he walked away, gallantly.
I looked at the guy from head to toe, well-built, and every visible part of his body was tattooed. I didn’t say a word. I jumped into Nsawam trotro and alighted at Pokuase junction.
While in the trotro, I heard from Adom FM news: “Prjmoooo atc” – thus, it’s mid-day!!!
I shook my head. “Kumasi was better; at least it was around 8 pm that I got scammed,” I said to myself.
At Pokuase, my close friend Sammy Tuga asked:
How was Circle?
Kaunda: Oh, everything was fine. I had a fruitful day.
That same day, I packed my things and came back to Osei Krom, in a demoralized state.
While at home, I opened the phone and inserted my SIM, and to my surprise, it didn’t even turn ON.
Welcome to Accra!
Anyway, let’s come back to Tech Junction where I bought the Techno T349. The above two encounters were just by the way.
I’m sure I could have made a good case if I presented an iPhone X to Zainab. I should be able to shop that with $100 worth of BTC, but I don’t have a drop, and it’s a 50-50 game.
Imagine Kaunda with iPhone X, then walking gallantly to her: “This is your small congratulation gift for completing SHS. It’s iPhone X, I bought it from Kumasi Mall at a cost of GHS 5,000.00. That is 50 million J J cedis.”
Once again, I’m not saying she’s materialistic, but come on, that will ring something in her.
[Ah, yɛn yɛ nkwadaa saa o]
But for now, we are going with Techno T349. The main purpose, as I’ve said earlier, is to get a channel of communication outside the Waakye environment; an environment with its states, actions, and rewards. That is all I need.
As to how to propose to her dej, don’t worry, I know my level.
For the past year, I’ve been rehearsing how to get my words to her. I know it will never fail when I get the right environment to propose to her. My heart will only beep, but I won’t mind that. I will say everything when I meet her one-on-one. “I will say what has to be heard. I will speak truth to love. Nobody will restrain me from speaking the truth to love. I just have to #DropThatFear” when the opportunity comes, and that crucial one-on-one chance never seems to come again after I blew the first one away.
Yes! I had a clear chance to propose to her, but like Asamoah Gyan, I blew that golden opportunity over the bar.
How did it happen?
Once upon a time, I closed from work, and just around Paa Joe Park, I saw a very beautiful lady standing at the taxi rank (Conti Round-about). Even from afar, I recognized her easily. She was the one.
Now, I can even recognize her shadow. I galloped to catch up with her. She had closed from the usual sales, and was heading home, alone. Best time to express my feelings!
As usual, I quickly made Plan B:
I will take the same car with her to Tech Junction. I will foot the cost. When we alight, then viola! I will start the “yobbing.”
Biiibiiiibesi, something is about to happen.
@Kaunda: Good evening, Zainab. How are you doing?
@Zainab: I’m fine oo.
@Kaunda: To Tech Junction, right?
@Zainab: Yes.
@Kaunda: OK! I’m also going to Tech Junction.
That was all I could say, but a lot will follow when we get to Tech Junction, for sure!!
[Me ngya ngya me ho koraa]. Just wait and see.
As we waited for a taxi, one “by lock” woman, staff at the Quality Assurance Unit, came to pack her private car.
@Bad luck woman: Kaunda, are you going to Tech Junction?
@Foolish Kaunda: Yes, I’m going to Tech Junction.
@Bad luck woman: Can I take you there?
@Foolish Kaunda: “Yes” – I said with a reluctant voice
@Bad luck woman: OK! Let’s go.
I turned to look at Zainab. Wow, what a beautiful nose, eyes, mouth, and ears, on a beautiful neck, on a coca-cola-shaped body.
@Kaunda: Will you mind joining me in the car?
@Zainab: Noo, please take the lead
Ayɛ ka!
I insisted, but she shied to join. I insisted a couple of times, still no.
Meanwhile, the bad luck woman was waiting. In order not to delay her, I foolishly left mighty Zainab, sat in it, and the bad luck woman drove foolish Kaunda away, leaving my lover behind.
What a stupid guy. What opportunity again should God open for this Udiot? Bring her to his room naked? Ashock sef.
[Akoa me yɛ John]
I got to Tech Junction, waited for a century, Zainab never appeared, and since then I have never met her outside the Waakye environment again.
That was how I blew away the golden opportunity. I later told Mariam (Dr. Amaru) about it, and she said, “Khan, you fucked up!”
An opportunity, they say, “comes but once.” I hope and pray that isn’t true. I’ve learned a lesson; I will not fall to any bad luck woman again. Next time she can choose to come with a drone, I won’t get in.
Nansis!
Now, back to the phone.
After buying it at Tech Junction, I decided to buy her a SIM too. A phone without SIM dej, jti sj wasa akapoma na wo andwa mu.
“Get her SIM too so she won’t have any excuse again,” I told myself.
@Kaunda: How much is MTN SIM?
@Seller: It’s Ghana 2.
@Kaunda: Wo dej koraa wabcn si ni me. What is Ghana 2?
@Seller: I mean 2 Ghana.
@Kaunda: Never mind. Can I use it instantly?
@Seller: Sure! You can use the SIM instantly, but please charge the phone 6 hours first.
@Kaunda: You are not serious. Just give me my phone.
@Seller: Our warranty won’t cover any damage oo, if you don’t do that.
I didn’t mind her.
I took a taxi, straight to campus. I alighted in front of the hall, peeped through the windows, and saw the container. Bingo!! That means she’s around.
I quickly opened the phone, fixed the SIM, turned it ON, and stored my number on it: 0234809010. This time, no mistake. I got it right, one time!
I stepped into the mini market, got close to her container, and saw no one. “Has she stepped out?” I asked myself.
I stood for a second, thinking of where she might be, and then I heard a very relaxing voice:
“Oh, so you are angry with me? Oh, pleeeeeeeease don’t get angry with me. I love you so much. You know it was around 11:50 pm so I was asleep. I was so tired. Tonight, I will set an alarm so we can talk a lot and do a video call, OK? I miss you much, mmmuah! Have you gotten your flight ticket? I hope you will be coming as promised,” the voice said.
I stretched my neck beyond the desk and got the shock of my life. My Waakye seller is down there on the phone with someone.
This is not good for my heart.
I don’t need to be told; she is in love with someone else. I started shaking.
As if that is not shocking enough, the kind of phone she was using was mind-blowing, a very complex Samsung.
The earpiece alone may cost about 200gh. That alone can buy two of my Techno phones, and the balance can take me to Wamfie via DKM Bus.
“Naa, this girl is not my size. ShataWale knows his level, but unfortunately, Kaunda doesn’t know his level,” I concluded.
I shook my head, put my GHS 60 Yam in my bag.
“Hello, I came to buy plantain chips and decided to say hi to you,” I said to her, pretending all was well.
I bought the unwanted plantain chips, and on trembling feet, I left the scene immediately, shaking my head.
I QUIT!