(Letter to a childhood friend. I hope he get’s to see this.)
c/o Maxwell Opoku P.O Box 1978 Accra, Ghana.
I remember some time ago when our neighbour knocked down your dog. You didn’t cry or anything stupid like that, but you did do something that till this day I find truly courageous. You sneaked into his house and let out the air in the tyres of his care. To top it all, you scratched your dog’s name on the paint of the driver’s door. I remembered it because three years after you did it, Mr. Owusu has finally sprayed his car a different colour. And he still doesn’t know who did that to his car. Not that he’d have had a right to do anything to you.
I know you probably already know this, you egoistic bastard, but the neighbourhood hasn’t been the same since you left. Ewurakua says it’s like you took our smiles away with you, and I couldn’t agree more. We have all become reclusive, and we blame it on growing up. But I wonder sometimes, if we’d have done things differently if you hadn’t gone. We all miss you here. Why didn’t you leave your contact with us? In fact, why did you tell us that you’d be gone for just two weeks and now it’s been three good years? I actually made an attempt to get your father’s number but it’s out of service. I don’t know how to reach you, and if I do get to you finally, I’ll give you the telling off of a lifetime. Ewurakua will too, even though she still becomes slightly mushy when anyone mentions your name. You devil, three years of your absence and you still have her heart. Sometimes I wonder how you do it.
I honestly don’t know if you’ll get this letter, but my elder brother told me to address it to your father, and then run it through the company he works for. Or worked for. These days I don’t know. Maybe they have a forwarding address or something for you. My father says you are somewhere in Kenya, how true is that? And in case you do get this letter, can you please take your thumb out your butt-hole and get on a social network? I don’t know how dumb you are if you still cannot see the essence of it. How is your new school though? Or you finally gotten your wish of being a dropout? Are the girls in Kenya pretty? Or are they all just paper thin like the rest of the population in eastern Africa? That reminds me, Charlotte won Miss Teen Ghana last year. Yes, Charlotte. The one the boys used to tease you with, and you hated it because (I quote your words exactly) “She has the attitude of a drunk truck pusher who hasn’t been paid.” Well, apparently she was pretty enough to win, and now she won’t let us hear the end of it. She’s formed an inner circle. The P.F.F.G (they call it the Pee Eff Square Gee) which stands for Pretty Fine Fresh Girls. I nearly choked with laughter when I first heard the name. Such creativity! Lord, things like this should be banned. But I’ve also started my own movement. Sobolo Boys. I need you to sign on, so we can boast of an international rep. The motto is “All blood is red.” I just might turn it into a political party one day.
So how’s your dream? You know you have three years more before you can no longer be “The World’s Richest Teenager”. From the list I saw on Google a while back, you are in for some serious competition. You’ll need to make billions in three years to beat them all. And I’m not talking Zimbabwean dollars. I’m still saving for my Murcielago, but right now I don’t see the use. After all, by the time I make all that money, better cars would have come and gone. Should we abandon all the principles taught to us by society and our parents and start a crime ring? The Joker has led me into believing that crime pays. I mean, look at all those drug lords. Have you ever seen a broke Mafioso? Or let’s go into cyber fraud? There are so many gullible people in this world. Look at the number of people who share those “1 million shares will save this child’s life..” on Facebook. This could really work. I’m in, if you are.
So do you have a girlfriend yet? I was thinking of asking Ewurakua out, because she’s the only girl I know who can completely understand my sense of humor. But she parked me in the friend zone. Not that I’m complaining, that girl has as many friends as a dead baby. So I guess anything that comes, I’ll take. Besides, I still have this dream of marrying Efya. I want her to write a love song for us.
Theo, I can’t bring myself to writing anymore, though I have lot’s to tell you. The thought just crossed my mind that you might never get this letter, and I wouldn’t want to waste all my time on something no one will ever read. So I’ll take my leave here. Extend my greetings to your family, and any Kenyan girl interested in Ghanaians. You have to force for a brother. Take care of yourself and try to get in touch.
I still haven’t forgiven you,