If only our spouses knew what we have been using our mouths for, I am sure they won’t allow us to use spoons they also use at home though not every sweet thing is eaten with the mouth.

That’s why I hardly eat outside home using spoons being used by everyone. Ten out of every 10 adults use their mouths to do ‘extra-curricular’ activities not sanctioned from above. I don’t know. Sometimes I chew sugar cane with mine. Other times too…hehehehe! I use it to talk and sing. Forgive us our sins!

It’s weekend again and time to relax and have a little fun! No seriousness here. We just have fun but remember: ‘don’t read’! It all started when I was a child.

I grew up into an adult and then I grew up again into writing things like this la. Happy birthday to insurance guy guy, Mr Kofi Ampau who celebrated his 25th birthday two days ago. This man has energy in spite of his age. We went for a walk at McCarthy Hill, I couldn’t climb to the top of the hill.

I looked up the hill and before deciding whether to faint or not, I returned to the base and went into my car to sleep. That steep hill is not meant for me, but Mr Ampau climbed it with so much ease and still smiling la. When we returned, I went on leave to rest. Mr Ampau went to work p3p33p3! The power of regular exercising. He doesn’t joke with exercising. Though almost twice my age, he looks younger than me, this lazy Mawuli.

All I know is to eat and sleep and now see how my stomach has become...gboom! The last time I visited someone at a maternity ward, they nearly gave me bed to go and lie down just because of my stomach. The midwife apparently mistook me for a ‘patient’ she had been looking for and thought I was the one. Men, exercise ooo.

This exercise thing too, I wish scientists can develop a capsule for us to just to take on daily basis. This manual exercising is not helping me at all. Exercising is all to prevent unnecessary sicknesses like high blood pressure except that nowadays if you live in Accra and don’t have it especially after age 40, then you are either not serious in life or you take extremely good care of yourself by exercising and not consuming too much meat and salt.

The latter is desirable but not easy. Hypertension is like a thief who is timing you to steal from you and the slightest mistake you make; it will take you by surprise.

Ah! Looks like I am talking too much today o, or? When a talkative tells you that ‘you talk too much’, abeg, it means you really can talk and need to establish a radio station.

Do you remember this story? Hmmm! A couple of years ago, I was in an elevator at one of the largest hospitals and descending from the 6th floor. On board the elevator was a corpse. The man died fresh! Oh I felt sorry for the family as they rather descended the stairways going to await the body downstairs. I was not comfortable standing by a corpse in an enclosed space! I thought I was the only one feeling uncomfortable.

Suddenly the lights went off and we got stuck on the 4 floor! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeei’! Please jokes aside, it was no child’s play. We were stuck in for 33 minutes…Come and see prayers… ‘Jesus…Jesus…Jesus!...’ Even a jujuman on board started screaming ‘Jesus… Jesus… Jesus…!’ It was even louder when somebody coughed and it echoed in the dark elevator. We were not sure who coughed; could it be the ‘body’ and thoughts of this even made the jujuman scream louder… ‘Son of God, Jesus, rescue us…’ . Saadziwa!

It was a sigh of relief for all ‘passengers’ when we were eventually evacuated. That was when I asked the jujuman: ‘Amega, why didn’t you call on gbagbladza knowing you are a fetish priest’? and his response would make me end this useless story here and right now. His response: ‘Ei my brother, the thing wey happen no be gbagbladza matter ooo’…Jesus is Lord; go to church!

So what is the big deal about this? The man believed in the fact that even though he is in ‘Ghana’, he doesn’t believe in ‘Made in Ghana’ goods! Ajeeeish! You know, all the countries in this world can be found in this Central Regional area. All the banks and insurance companies can also be found here now. Gommoa SIIC, Gommoa Dunwell, Gommoa GPC, Gommoa, Gommoa NTN, Gommoa Tiggo, Gommoa Gro, Gommoa HAirtel.

The latest style is to name some of the suburbs in honour of our universities. Imagine Gommoa Legon, Gommoa Tek, Gommoa Kay-Vas, Gommoa USPA, etc. I was in Gommoa France the last time and told it has been renamed in fact rebranded Gommoa Obama with the American flag hanging in almost every chopbar in town.

Gommoa Kumanse, I learnt has also been changed after they were cautioned by His Majesty to remove the signboard leading to the town. It is now ‘Gommoa Yagyeemu’ (ie. Gommoa we have let go).

Enough of all these Gommoa countries…haaaa!

There is sugar cane in the fridge…go and chew some er! Those days that I used to break sugar cane with my wrist in a competitive game…hmmm! I was the champion in this game.

George Kwashi, I don’t even know where you are now…George always led me to go break sugar cane and I gave up the ‘act’ in the late 80s. Me again? Never! Was it just fun to be using our wrists to break sugar cane? Perhaps, yes. On this fateful day, the boys converged at the popular video centre joint.

The die was cast. I had a faction supporting me. Another faction was supporting Papavi, my opponent. The sugar cane was brought. In fact, though an undefeated champion for a long time, the ‘temperament’ of the sugar cane this time scared me. Ei! It looked hard with the joints not too far from each other. It appeared it was cultivated in a rocky area – very hard and dry.

My opponent tried breaking it with his wrist and failed 2 times. Being the champion, nothing less was expected from me apart from victory. But I was scared small oo. One section of the audience started shouting ‘oh he cannot, he cannot, Mawuli cannot break it this time round’.

Another devilish section chanted ‘Here comes the indefatigable champion Mawuli, the sugar cane breaker’. There is none like him’. In fact, at this point I didn’t know who was interested in my instant death and who really wished me well.

Be careful who sings praises about you as much as you should be careful about the ones who dare you.

Well, one…two…three….kraaaaa! Sugar cane refused to break. I felt the pain on my wrist very sharply and even thought I had a fracture but I persevered and kept my eyes open without blinking an eye. The chants continued, this time, louder and the Kisseman people came around to ‘entertain’ themselves. ‘Oh he cannot’ ‘No he can’…on and on it went.

The second attempt…one…two…three….kraaaa! There it was, the stubborn sugar cane was broken by the champion Mawuli. Time for celebration…but it was shortlived! Typically, I would have been at the point of contest to brag about my feat. But this time round, I left the scene immediately looking for the nearest corner to go and hide and cry…these id**ts who were sure I was hurt followed me to the corner to see my ‘actual’ reactions…and ‘downfall of a victor’!

Then I understood why Jesus refused to listen to the Devil when He (Yesu) was tempted by the Devil to jump from a height! Falasii people nkoaaa! The cheetah doesn’t need to prove to dogs that it is the fastest animal on earth and can run at a speed of 120 kilometers per hour. But I read somewhere that the cheetah loses its speed just after 30 seconds into a race. Is this true? Me I don’t know o. Good morning o, bra cheetah!

My career in sugar cane breaking contests ended in 1988. Never again! This weekend will be good. Say Amen er! I am the only one in my area who connected to a 3-phase meter yet anytime there is a problem with one of our lines, all those on single phase meters have light and me of all people with 3-phase meter, I don’t get light! Hmmm! The irony of life! Have the best of the weekend in Jesus’ name I pray….amen!