I’m a mental ruminant. I mean, I regurgitate conversations I’ve had and give myself a pat on the back when I nail them. I apologise quickly too when I offend. The major catalyst for this behaviour is my mother. She never used harsh words on us. Her words were always seasoned even in reprimands and she made sure we picked that up.
Growing up, Daddy Lumba’s Aben wor ha was the jam. Merrhhn! Its concomitant dance— slightly winding the waist with hands up in a ‘surrender’ fashion—Charle! Don’t go there! But you dare not sing it under Auntie Adwoa’s roof. Let her catch you singing it elsewhere because you think you’re slick! You’ll be sorry. I listened to the song recently and asked why she was so hard on us. There was nothing REALLY wrong with the song. “You know better now. If you decide to sing this ‘mpaninsem’ song somewhere, it’s your own cup of tea.”The speech was longer though, you know how menopause does it ,but I got the message.You can’t say anything you like, anywhere, just like that!
I think that upbringing made me less vocal about my feelings. On the better side, I can never be caught dead saying somethings. For instance, I sat in a trotro and two very fine, polished, elite-looking ladies were using the t- word and k- word ( genitals, you barb?) freely. Fine girls o! Very fiiinnee girls. I think their uber delayed kra that’s why they took trotro. And one of them couldn’t chew her gum quietly too! Hoh! I was so shy! And I wasn’t the only one. An elderly man was giving them “the look” but they didn’t care. I agree. They did no wrong in discussing their sexual escapades.We didn’t know how to appreciate such conversation in a steamy-hot trotro stuck in traffic, either.
That aside, how about the guys who throw the twi word for fool(k****a) about like it’s waste paper then have the impetus to say “ebi boys boys”? Boys boys?? Boys boys don’t have self- control anymore? Boys boys don’t take note of their surroundings anymore? Boys boys can’t watch their tongues now?
I’m not being stiff-necked. I’m very much aware I can be old-fashioned, conservative and traditional in my outlook on life but on any day, I’ld choose the good, old-fashioned courtesy over WM* and it’s distant cousins,f*ck and sh*t.Anyday, anytime. I’m not merely stating emotional ideals. It’s very scriptural.
Don’t use foul or abusive language. Let everything you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them.
Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.
Keywords: Everyone. Everything. Encouragement. I’ld leave the scary one for you. Google Matt 12:36.😌. What’s more? You actually sound better with your speech censored.
It’s your call, your honour. I rest my case.
In other news, school is back in session. Soon, I’ll be buried deep in thick textbooks and tons of assignments while juggling extracurriculars. This is no goodbye, I promise. I may become a lazy writer, only blogging sparingly.Do rouse me often, would you? I may need the awakening. Then again,who knows? The pages of pathology, pharmacology, microbiology and other -logies may hold more inspiration than I could fathom. We’ll live to see…