MUSINGS; HOW DO EWES LOOK LIKE?

HOW DO EWES LOOK LIKE?

My name is Mamavi  Perfect Selenu Goh.

Born to an ewe man who comes from somewhere in the Volta Region.

My name is Mamavi Goh

And I am an Ewe!

Even though I can't speak my native language fluently, I am a proud one!

A proud one because my language is said to be a heavenly language.

The only language spoken in heaven.

Oh Yes!

If you think I am telling lies, find out for yourself when you get to heaven.

.... But wait! Is there a particular look an Ewe man or woman must have??

I mean, must one look a certain way to be associated with the tribe?

Until I mention my name, people usually do not believe when I say I  am ewe.

Here is one of such examples.

Three weeks ago, I made a new friend who told me I didn't look like an ewe because ewe girls are fair.

And who said ewe girls are/must necessarily be fair before they will be considered as one?

Are there not fair girls in other tribes??

Let's leave that!

I have to repeat times without number to the new people I meet every day that I am ewe.

You know why??

They say I don't speak like one.

They say I speak without the ewe accent.

Wait a minute!

Do all ewes speak with an ewe accent? 

I doubt!

Do ewes have a particular facial look??

I doubt!

Until I mention my name to someone I meet, they either say I look like a Liberian or an Ashanti!

Why??

Because  I don't look like an ewe.

....but how do ewes look??

Just how do they look???

MY STEP MOTHER, MY LOVE!

MY STEP MOTHER, MY LOVE.

 

I had always believed the stories I had heard about the wicked attitude of step mothers until my dad married another woman three years after my mother's death.

Ours was a happy family until my mother had an accident and subsequently became ill. Due to my mum's predicament, my dad was unhappy most of the time. My elder sister could also hardly concentrate at work and I was usually unhappy at home.

Two weeks after my mother was discharged from the hospital, having been hospitalized for three months, she finally bid farewell to Mother Earth one afternoon when I was preparing her favorite dish: yam and kontomire stew.

Life was tough right from my mother's death through to her burial:
the house was quiet most of the time; my elder sister and I hardly talked to each other and our Papa hardly ate or said anything to us .

This rather strange behavior went on for two years until the third year when my elder sister suggested to me that Papa should get a new wife. I received the news with mixed feelings, and this wasn't because I wasn't concerned about Papa's happiness, but I was particularly concerned about the kind of detestable things I had heard my friend Aku say about her wicked step mother.

Personally, I had come to the conclusion that all step mothers were wicked. Prioritizing Papa's happiness, however, I agreed with my elder sister, Nana, that Papa should take a new wife .

On the afternoon after we had gone to church to celebrate mum's third anniversary, Nana and I went to Papa's room to suggest what we had discussed earlier. It was difficult for Papa, as he saw no need in taking a new wife. But Nana convinced him and reminded him that we were girls and so were not going to stay by his side forever, even the more when I had two more weeks to enter the secondary school.

After the discussion with Papa, he agreed to marry a new wife as soon as he found one. Soon, I had to go to school. Though I was sad I was leaving Papa and Nana behind, I was happy that I was leaving home for a new town and an entirely new environment, where I was going to meet and interact with people from diverse backgrounds.

In my third week in school, Nana and Papa visited me and in addition to the things they brought to me, Papa informed me about the new woman he had found and the preparation he was making towards their marriage ceremony.

By the fourteenth week of my first year in high school, I was homesick and was anxiously waiting to go home to meet Papa's new wife. It was like God heard and answered my prayer, as went on vacation in the sixteenth week. On the day of vacation, I quickly bid my friends goodbye and headed for the bus terminal to pick a bus back home.

On reaching home, I met a woman at the gate whom I assumed was Papa's new wife. As we stood there exchanging pleasantries, Papa came out of the room to welcome me. And before I even sat down, he introduced the woman to me as his new wife, Aunt Rebecca. She hugged me and welcomed me back home.

Nana, my elder sister, had moved out of Papa's house. My mother told us before she died that we should not be staying with our parents by the age of 24, as it was needful for us to live alone when we were approaching the time of marriage. Nana was 25 years old and so this was what informed her decision to move out.

Three days into my vacation at home, I was getting to know more about my step mother. She was rather the reserved type and did not talk much. She always made sure I got everything I needed. And I was wondering if the niceties of her behavior were genuine or she was merely trying to please me at these initial stages of our getting to know each other. 

                                                                I was anxiously waiting for the day she was going to start maltreating me because I had heard so many bad stories about stepmothers maltreating their step daughters and I thought she was not going to be an exception.

But days passed. Then weeks passed. Yet Aunt Rebecca continued to show me love and care each passing day, just as my late mother used to.

Soon, my holiday period came to an end and I had to go back to school. Aunt Rebecca bought all the items I needed for school, took me to school, and gave me some money in addition to what Papa had given me.

When my friends and I met in school and I told them about the love and care my step mother showed me during the vacation period, Pamela my best friend told me to wait until she gave my Papa a child of her own, as that was when the maltreatment was likely to start.

School was fun that term with lots of educative and entertaining activities, aside academic work until school went on vacation again.

This time when I got home, I was greeted with a surprise: my step mother had given birth to a baby. I was mad at Papa for not telling me that Aunt Rebeca was pregnant and that she had even given birth. Papa explained to me that she gave birth earlier in the day before I arrived home.

Before I completed my three year study in high school, my step mother had given Papa two children. I had two siblings: a boy and a girl. Aunt Rebecca did not maltreat me. She continued to show me love and care. Anytime I asked papa for something and he declined, Aunt Rebecca automatically became my next option - and she usually indulged me.

Similarly, I loved my siblings dearly. They called me big sister.

Few months after my final high school exams, my results were released and I passed with distinction. My step mother convinced Papa to make me join her sister in the United Kingdom for further studies.

Naturally, I was super excited when one day my step mother called me and informed me I was going to join my step aunt in the UK to further my studies.

Few weeks later, I arrived in the UK to start a new life. I felt sad leaving behind my elder sister Nana (who got married to a pastor), my Papa and Aunt Rebecca as well as my two siblings. I promised Aunt Rebecca I was going to make her proud. So I was bent on working hard towards my dream of becoming a lawyer.

Living in the UK was a worthwhile experience for me. Though there were times I could go out to have fun with my friends, I always chose instead to study and I did study seriously. Papa called me almost every month to check on me, but Aunt Rebecca and I were on the phone almost every weekend .

Two years into my stay in the UK, I decided to go back home to visit Papa and Aunt Rebecca when school was on vacation. One afternoon when I closed from school, Aunt Bea, my step mother's sister whom I was staying with, called me and asked me to come home immediately I closed from school. She didn't sound cheerful on the phone. So I quickly rushed home, leaving my friends behind.

On reaching home, I was given a rather devastating news: I had lost my step mother. There and then, my world, in my mind, seemed to have come to an end. Aunt Rebecca, I was told died, when she was being delivered of her third child for Papa. She died, leaving the new born baby behind.

Compared to when my biological mum passed on, this time I wasn't so concerned about Papa. I was more interested in my two little siblings and was even more concerned about the newly born baby.

As well, I was sad that aunt Rebecca could not live to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Just when I had a couple of years to complete school to start work and earn an income, so I can fulfill my promise to her, death had cruelly snatched her away from us. I had promised Aunt Rebecca that I was going to buy her a car. Now, who was going to ride the car when I eventually earned enough money to buy it?

I had lost an asset at the time I least expected it. I had lost a woman who proved to me that not all step mothers were wicked. A woman who showed me so much love and care like my late mother did when she was alive. I had lost another mother again!

How wicked was death to have visited my home for the second time! How wicked was death to have taken my step mother away just when I was about to go back home to visit her!

She was gone and was not going to come back again!

I had lost my step mother!

I had lost my love!

  

MARRIAGE NSEMPIISMS; AN OPEN LETTER TO EFO

 AN OPEN LETTER TO MY DAD, EFO.

Dear Efo,

It has become very necessary that I write this note to you. This is due to a comment I heard your friend, Amegah Agbodeka, make when he visited you last Tuesday. I know you taught me well enough to not eavesdrop on conversations and I swear on the testicle of my pet goat, Zorro, that I did not. The matter I am about to address happened to pass through my ears when I was bringing you the roasted plantain and groundnut on that day - but I am glad it did. I am also very convinced to speak to the matter because when your friend said the things he said, you did not verbally agree or disagree with him. I fear that your silence meant you consented to what he said.

If I heard your friend right, Efo, he said that he would not allow his daughter to marry Barimah Adakabreh Frimpong-Manso, the goldsmith's son. He added that it will only be over his dead body that their union will take place. He then concluded that he would rather his daughter married Mr Zomerlo's son, Koku ItisbytheGrace Agbemabiese, or any other man from the Ewe tribe. His reason was as trifle as a dry tree branch; he did not want his daughter to be corrupted by another tribe.

Efo, I am writing this to you (I hope Daavi reads it too) to state emphatically to you that I will not marry a man from my tribe or any man of an Ewe descent. I am making you aware before you birth the idea of making me marry one. This is not to say I am not proud of my heritage. Neither am I saying that there are no good Ewe suitors out there (how can I even say things like that?). Efo, your daughter is a proud Ewe lady. You taught me how to be one and if after this life I am given the opportunity to come back to the Earth, I will beg God to make me come back as an Ewe.

Efo, did I tell you that my friends in class are envious of Ewes? A big part of the reason is our fine Ewe lecturer. He is not only handsome and intelligent but he uses every opportunity to tell the class about our tribe and clear some of the misconceptions people have about us. On one occasion, he told the class that the our language is so 'heavy' it is the only language spoken in heaven. Since that day, some students have been worrying me to teach them the heavenly language. Even my ethnocentric friend, Naa Atswe, recently told me she wished she was Ewe.

I am well aware, Efo, that you have had problems with men from other tribes because they married my aunties and did not treat them well. I am sure it is the hatred in your heart that Amegah Agbodeka wanted to capitalize on; the reason he came to you and no one else. He knew you would speak to him from that bias and encourage his already established incorrigible thought. But Efo, do you know that, just like you, there are people of other tribes who hate our tribesmen because their natives were not treated well when they married Ewes? I am sure you also know that the success of marriages, an example being you and Daavi's, has nothing to do with the tribe one marries from. It takes completely different set of factors that are not the subject of this note so I will not touch on them.

I also know that language and other cultural differences could pose some challenges in inter tribal marriages. This is especially so with regards to which way the children should be brought up. However, I believe when handled with maturity, it will be an issue to not bother oneself about.

Efo, I will not marry an Ewe because I believe in inter tribal marriages. I want my daughter, assuming I marry a Fante man, to have an Ewe-Fante identity, like; Elikem Kwayisibea Mensah. Ah Efo, isn't that lovely! Or, I marry an Ashanti and we name our child; Nana Kossi Azameti Atuobi-Yiadom.

I want my children to be exposed to cultures other than mine. I want to teach them how to tolerate people from different cultures, teach them not to be stereotypical of others and instill in them how to live at peace with all men. Indeed, marrying a non-Ewe will not automatically teach them all these but it will be a starting point. The rest, they would learn from school hopefully.

Now Efo, do not be too worried about all that I have said. My position on this matter is not too entrenched. If I ever fall in love with an Ewe man, the narrative will be a different one. If not, don't expect that I will bring one home.

Your lovely Ewe daughter,
Mamavi.

YOUR BOYFRIEND MUST NOT BE FRIENDS WITH YOUR ROMMMATE!!

LETTERS TO MY SISTER

YOUR BOYFRIEND MUST NOT BE FRIENDS WITH YOUR ROOMMATE!

This is quite the entire truth – I am so proud of the wonderful woman you have grown into. Such an amazing lady and a pretty one for that matter that you are becoming and it draws very pleasant smiles on my face anytime I play back the moments.

Wow, it hasn’t been that long has it? Do you still remember how we gave daddy so much trouble anytime he was supposed to babysit us? I feel so bad now even as I remember that particular day when we took out his new suit jackets and painted them with our poster colors? Aww, the look on his face that afternoon was classic and knowing how much he would not beat us up has made me feel so guilty growing up now. 

 

         

And of course, I can’t imagine my life without a sister. Sometimes, I pity those who don’t have sisters and wonder how they are able to cope although it is usually no fault of theirs.

Considering the difference in our ages, I can say that I’ve seen quite more than you have in this life. That’s the same way there are some terrible mistakes I’ve made and equally more terrible ones I have witnessed that I think I should bring to your attention because we are all growing and we need all the education, exposure and information necessary to make us more cautious and better in this life.

Though mistakes are meant to happen, many more can be avoided.

I have given this very long and careful thoughts and have come to a decision that I hope you are comfortable with. So, in the coming months, I will be writing letters to you. These letters are to share with you, certain things you MUST know. More especially as you are preparing to enter the university soon, I think the details of this first letter would come in handy.

I know you are very eager to enter the university and it is not normal more so because of the experiences I have been sharing with you. Now, let me share something basic with you.

First things first - being in the university is a totally different experience altogether. And over there, you don’t only go there to bury your heads in books with the proverbial aim of making a First Class. Well, I must confess that I want a First Class too but it is does not also mean anything short of that means I would hate my own achievements. 

In fact, not everybody goes to the university to learn – note that. I remember too well a former mate of mine, Nelson, who was only in school because of all the people in his family, he was the only one yet to bet at least a first degree. He was carefree and unperturbed about everything and practically because he was from a wealthy family, he never repeated a class although he wrote a number of referred papers. He took a transfer out of this school though but the point I am making here is that some people are only in school because they want to belong - ‘I was there some.’

The university is also a place where you meet different kinds of people from all walks of life, establish new contacts, amongst other life-essential encounters.

Let’s cut the long chase short and get straight to the point.

I don’t doubt you getting admission into your university of choice to read a course of your choice and unless you are heavy in your pocket, you wouldn’t need to share a room with anyone. Hostel life is another tale on its own and that is why I am only limiting it to your room issues. And besides, the hostel is not like your home. 

Even at home, don’t the two of us share a room? Yeah, and trust me, it can get very boring sleeping alone in a room when at the hostel. The only option you might have is to share a room with one or two persons who become what we term here your RUMIE.

But note that this also largely depends on the size of the room you get to rent.

And as the years of your stay in the university decrease with time, there is something that accompanies the change - your roommates get to change from semester to semester. Now this is where my concern comes into proper perspective.

Never let your boyfriend be friends with your roommate.

This might sound too shallow or something you might consider not right with you asking so many questions. I have heard concerns such as what if my boyfriend wants to roommate and I out or what if, for instance, I get stranded or misplace my phone and he wants to check up on me through my roommate’s line?

What if ……..?

There is definitely nothing wrong with this – definitely.

But, can I share a story with you?

Please.

Benewaa and Etorman were not just roommates in their first year in the university. They were best friends and were convincingly a good pair until a man came between them. Before they met in school however, Benewaa had broken up with her boyfriend under some very interesting circumstances. Etornam never met Benewaa’s ex and had not seen any pictures of him because according to her, the breakup was so mysterious that she had decided not to keep any images of him. She only wanted to stay single.

Then one day, Etornam decided to introduce her new boyfriend to Benewaa. That day, she did not only introduce them but insisted they exchanged contacts so her boyfriend, Joe, could have a backup number through which he could reach her on.

 

Benewaa and Etorman were not just roommates in their first year in the university. They were best friends and were convincingly a good pair until a man came between them. Before they met in school however, Benewaa had broken up with her boyfriend under some very interesting circumstances. Etornam never met Benewaa’s ex and had not seen any pictures of him because according to her, the breakup was so mysterious that she had decided not to keep any images of him. She only wanted to stay single.

Then one day, Etornam decided to introduce her new boyfriend to Benewaa. That day, she did not only introduce them but insisted they exchanged contacts so her boyfriend, Joe, could have a backup number through which he could reach her on.

But unknown to Etornam, Benewaa’s mysterious breakup was with this same guy and she had mentioned nothing about it. Not even once until the day Benewaa left her phone, which hitherto she would guard with such exaggeration as a fowl would its chick, unlocked.

The continuous beeping sounds from the phone only got Etornam to notice and out of curiosity, attempt to silence the phone while she waited for Benewaa’s return. Just then, another message popped up on the screen that read, “Yesterday was explosive. That sex was unbelievable and to think that you would never have done it with me in the laboratory washroom. You are amazing.”

And being even more curious from reading this, Etornam decided to open the profile picture to find out who was getting her friend’s attention so much that she had decided to keep it a secret from her.

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Noooooo!!!” she screamed even the more when she realized it was the very thing she feared that was now staring her in the face – her boyfriend was cheating on her and it was with her friend; her roommate.

It was a very difficult breakup to go through but Etornam managed it and learnt her lessons from that experience quite well. 

Sissy, this is a true picture of what the Bible refers to as the heart of man is desperately wicked. It happens and if we all have the chance, we should arm ourselves enough not to fall into this trap.

So, take this from me - at least from my little experience from being in the university for four years. I have come across ladies whose friendships hit the rocks, turning sour all because of a man. It is even worse when they are both roommates or have been roommates before. And the genesis of such situations has mostly been when

one of them decides to allow her friend too much private space into her boyfriend life. They go as far as exchanging numbers.

Your roommate being friends with your boyfriend means that, she can interfere with your relationship. She would always want to be updated on what’s happening in your relationship. If care is not taken, before you know it, she could be sharing in the privileges your boyfriend gives you, sharing the presents he brings you too.

Your roommate could at some point start controlling your relationship for you because she’ll be the one advising you on how to run the relationship. Your relationship!

Except you get a roommate who already wants to comfort herself in her little corner, paying heed to only her business without being unusually interreptive in your life, the possibility of you getting a rumie who would want to know everything that goes on in your life especially in your relationship is 7/10.

See, once in a while your boyfriend might come around to your hostel to visit you and he might meet your roommate. Watch so that they don’t get too comfortable around each other. Never allow them exchange contacts. Don’t discuss your roommate with your boyfriend neither must you discuss your boyfriend with your roommate – at least not every time he sneezes.

I’m not saying you should be secretive. Once in a while, you’ll find yourself discussing your boyfriend with your roommate but don’t give out too much detail – be smart.

Do not make that terrible mistake. This is an avoidable mistake and the only way to avoid this is to keep your boyfriend away from your roommate. Keep your relationship issues away from her.

As you await your entry into the university, I wish you nothing but the best.

I have a strong feeling this information has been helpful but if not, kindly write back to me and let me read from where you disagree.

Until I write to you again, it’s bye.

Your Sister,

Mamavi.