It seems like a lot of peoples main goal in life these days is to become popular and famous on Facebook. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that every single person on Facebook was some type of celebrity. People fight, cuss each other, accuse and counter accuse over who is more popular on Facebook. Facebook has changed and got a lot people thinking that they are more important than what/who they really are. But hey, don’t get it twisted, some FB people still know that we are regular as hell. Let me tell you a funny, true life story about when being famous on Facebook goes wrong.
I have not updated my blog in like 3 weeks. I am so so sorry about that. My life is now cluttered with a lot of activities so much that I sometimes forget, I swore an oath to my avid readers to entertain them weekly or at worst bi-weekly. But I am here now and I hope this post warms your hearts enough to forgive me.
I remember when I discovered the snooze button of the alarm clock as a young boy. My uncle bought me the alarm clock as a Christmas present and I was so excited about the idea. It was early in the morning, and my alarm clock was going off. I didn’t want to get up and go to school, so I wondered if there was a way that I could silence the alarm for sometime so that I could get a little more rest. This would allow me just enough time to toss and turn for about 8 minutes, and sleep for the remaining 30 seconds, before starting the cycle all over again.
Because of my Ga jokes and jests on Social Media (most of those jokes are directed at Ga Girls though) my friends have resulted to calling me a tribalist based on my beliefs and my continued jesting about the Ga People Of Ghana. At first, I used to get offended when people inboxed me on Facebook, referring to me as tribalist, but frankly now I can not be bothered, because I know I am not a tribalist in the sense that I do not bring other tribes down. I jest about my own tribe for fun and I have no regrets whatsoever about that. I would not intentionally ridicule my own tribe on Social Media. For what?
The problem with young Ghanaian teenagers today is that they are too soft. Those days, (I mean in the 1990s and early 2000s) young people like myself were tough. We were strong and hard as nails. My generation had the wild, strict parents, big mango climbable trees and the very wicked Primary and JHS teachers.
I am going to have fun with this post because I have often thought about what I would buy if I won the lottery or made a huge amount of money from playing roulette in a casino. I am allowed to dream right?
What if? What if I clocked like $100,000- $500,000? or maybe even a $1,000,000?
#1 Firstly, I will go to church, give 10% of my winnings as tithe, and then, offer unto God through the church, a Thanksgiving offering. In All Things, I Have To Give Thanks Unto God.
I dedicate this post to my dear Facebook friends, twitter followers and blog readers who have found Love. There are so many different kinds of love. Love for your family, love for your pets, love for your friends and even love for the Kooko seller that makes your kooko every morning.
We experience it, but we may not always appreciate all the love in our daily lives, especially when we find ourselves alone, seeking that one love, the ROMANTIC Love.
Today is 1st July, and its Republic Day of Ghana. Social media has been buzzing with the #OccupyFlagstaffHouse hash tag seeking the head of the President Of Ghana. Ghanaians on social media (i.e. Facebook and Twitter) are lamenting about the economic conditions in the country presently and the constant increment of fuel prices and utility tariffs. Well, the Level 400s in many of the Universities have graduated from School, the Level 100s, 200s like myself and 300s are doing or starting their summer internships and WASSCE and BECE graduands are also sitting at home, awaiting their results.
A while ago, I saw someone write something to the effect that, you can call him a stereotype, a coward or whatever but if his friend gets HIV, he won’t hang out with him, anymore. In his words; “he should die alone”. Then another one also asked why we keep spending money to provide drugs to HIV/AIDS patients since its an incurable disease. In his words too; “we are tired of spending the taxpayers’ money on them”.
When you read thoughts like this on the worldwide web, you need a lot of discipline to keep your cool. But now, thinking about those two thoughts expressed openly about HIV/AIDS on social media, I am not going to keep my cool anymore, I am going crazy thinking about what they said.
I remember those days when we did not have access to the internet and it was the preserve of the rich, I decided to take a journey to the neighborhood cybercafe to do some browsing. Welcome to 2007.
It was a hot, sunny Saturday if my memory serves me right– ECG had taken the lights in some parts of Accra as usual. The birds were singing loudly than ever, the open gutters smelt of hot stagnant water and piss, and you could hear the bus conductor’s voice from afar shouting “Osu! Osu! Osu!”
Bra Kevin Beats released a song, “House-help” where he tells us that he was using his house help as “practice” for the hood girls. Funny?? Most people don’t like the house-help idea. Growing up, my mother also hated that idea. She will cook, do laundry & clean herself. (Go Her!) We all hear stories about house helps and all the wahala, they can bring. And today, I also discovered that, they are 4 categories of house helps, you can end up with.