Caught in the Rains

Dear Nii Kpakpo,

hope you are well and are keeping all the people in Hustle City jamming with your Drive Time radio show. The other day I was telling your cousin how multi talented we all have been forced to become just to live in our own motherland.

As one of our bearded professors said in his book we have become a Land of A Million Magicians. Eish! That professor kraa we have to check on him and find his whereabouts oh.

In this time and days where this gun toting Shabba people are on a rampage we shouldn’t wait for something to happen to him somewhere before we say he’s a national hero.

Please use your ample resources and connections to find where Dr Ben Abdallah is, so at least we know that son of the soil is okay.

Kpapkpo as we mourn one son of the soil, my writing professor, I refuse to watch the news but social media won’t let me be. Ain’t we amazed about how he was so organized even to the last that he made a list of the 200 people he wanted to pay their last respects to him?

And to be cremated? No maggots , no decay, no delay! Giving new meaning to an age old saying ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’. He went for the former.

Nii Kpakpo I told you the last time about how when it rains in the savannah the whole place shuts down. When it was pouring in the south at beginning of the year, we were up here complaining that we needed the rains to produce the food the nation needs and I kept telling them thwart the global trends have changed so they should relax.

now the rains are here in the savannah and as usual we are not prepared for it. Charley! The only other place I’ve seen such spontaneity of rain is in the big chief’s fufu eating dynasty.

You wake up to clear blue sunny skies and the next minute it’s pouring like clouds have accumulated over a week. It is so without warning and as usual you know our meteorological services are only interested in the inter tropical boundary – whatever that means.

So on a clear Thursday afternoon I set off to play basketball and before I get to the taxi station twenty minutes away, the usual running helter-skelter that preludes savannah rains start.

with the wind blowing hard, savannah residents cram into the nearest taxis or any form of transport available to go home before the actual rains start pouring.

Nii Kpakpo I tell you, the savannah is the only place that when you sell umbrellas in the rainy season you will run at a loss. The people make sure they get home before the rains start by hook or crook. They do not need umbrellas at all.

Boss, I got to the taxi anyway and headed for my destination hoping it wasn’t raining there but alas the same situation. Rain started there just as I arrived so I had to head back.

Here I was stranded in the rain since the taxi had already left. The other one that I got to bring me back to the station was leaking.

Kpakpo apart from protecting me from the wind, this taxi did not protect me from the rain.

Me and another passenger just sat in the taxi and she being a woman was worried and fretting about getting her hair wet. Me I was already soaked so I didn’t bother. Just sat in the taxi laughing quietly to myself watching my co-passenger fight the raindrops in the car and still try to be a decent lady.

Kpakpo, visibility in the car is poor and I don’t know how the driver could drive under such conditions and this woman was shaken. Although it was obvious the heater in the car was working, another obvious thing was that the driver didn’t know its use. The last time I tried to show a taxi driver how to use the heater, he got so angry I was touching his knobs and since then I’ve learnt to just sit and pray.

Obviously madam had not learnt that or was still to learn. Suffice it to say she was the first to jump out of the taxi, even in the pouring rain and thunder, when the taxi got to the station. Funny how all of a sudden she would rather get her hair and body wet than lose her life.

Even though I opted to wait for a while under the stalls at the station, they didn’t provide much protection either because of the winds. A phone call from your cousin asking for my whereabouts was enough to encourage me to brave the rain and get home.

Kpakpo, whenever there was lightning and thunder, it was interesting to watch how the people cowered and jumped. This was an interesting sight and now I understood why they didn’t like being caught out. How can a whole group of people be afraid of thunder that much.

But I guess it’s in their cultural belief systems that curses are placed on you through thunder and lightning .

But if I haven’t offended anybody, why fear.

Well Kpapo, I was getting soaked under the canopy and being the typical savannah degenerate that I am, I rationalized that i’d rather get soaked in the rain and run into the warm bath and embrace of your cousin.

so I stepped into the rain and started to do the twenty minute jog home. Obviously I was the only person in the empty streets and folk standing under eaves, out of the rain, ooked at me like I was crazy but for me I kept my eye on the prize – a warm bath and a cuddle.

Anyemi! I got home with a splitting headache because apparently savannah rain is heavier but the warm bath and oh! The cuddle afterwards and I slept off like a baby.

Kpakpo trust me, I won’t be caught out in any more savannah rains. I have learnt my lessons.

As for the repercussions of the rain, I will leave it to the mayor and his disaster  management team to figure it out.

For now I can write this which means my fingers ain’t frozen thanks to your cousin.

Please thank her for me when you next talk to her.

And you stay out of any rains. You know what I mean. *wink wink!


Your cousin in law

Savannah Boy!


2 thoughts on “Caught in the Rains

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s