Enkindle

          Mawufemor lay awake that night, reminiscing about his time in Ho and at the E.P. University.            During his first year at university, a few of his colleagues were aware of his workplace, and he was constantly mocked. This didn't bother him much, but every now and then, when he wasn't able to make it to class on time or at all since it was a market day, he became concerned, but then some lecturers joined in to mock him. Then there were the difficulties he faced with presentations and answering questions in class as a result of his stammer. Many of his colleagues and some lecturers felt he was stupid because he stammered. And the struggle went on day after day.            But Mawufemor had faced such difficulties before. He'd been through a lot: hunger, cold, homelessness, hopelessness, mockery, betrayal, and so on, and these things weren't going to stop him.   ...

            Mawufemor was only 8 years old in 1996, but he had seen enough hardship to last him a lifetime.  He had been wandering the road of Desperate Life  —aimlessly beneath the barren sky.  So afraid that he would not be found— Fearing it wouldn't be long before his sun goes down. He just needed someone—just someone—to lead him home.    Eventually, Mawufemor landed at the Abeka Market, a town about 2 kilometres from Lapaz.            In the beginning, life was difficult because he was unfamiliar with the terrain and was unaware of the territorial nature of the market and its environs. Later on, however, he began to interact with other boys his age and older who had also made the market and the lorry station their home and meeting place. Among them was a 10-year-old child named Awutsey who was as courageous as Shaka Zulu. Then there was Azumah, a 15-year-old fingersmith with a reputation f...

    Mawufemor, born Nicholas Mawufemor Kwabla Mensah in a little hamlet near Ho in 1988, was born into misfortune. A few days before Mawufemor's birth, his father, a wealthy businessman at the time, had died in prison, having been falsely accused. His mother, affectionately known as Daa Afua, was dispirited and broken, passing away a few minutes after the birth of her first child, Mawufemor.      Nordey Yawa, his maternal grandmother, assumed responsibility for the orphan's upkeep. Mawufemor's grandmother was found dead on the farm one afternoon when he was only two years old, having been hit by lightning. Following this new development, his auntie—the mother's younger sister—arrived to collect him and take him to live with her in Accra.      Mawufemor's first memories of his childhood included being molested by his auntie's husband when he was four years old. The 45-year-old male would use his long and massive reproductive rod to b...

  “Elorm! Elorm!! What is happening to you?" The voice resonated loudly.       By this time, both youngsters had recognized the voice of the mystery individual behind the door; it was the Reverend Amenuveve, and they realized they were in serious trouble. Nonetheless, Elorm instinctively raced to open the door. Her father dashed in, nearly collapsing owing to an apparent quick spike in his blood sugar level and blood pressure brought on by the sight before him.       In their haste, shock, and fear, both youths had forgotten to dress up. What Reverend Amenuveve witnessed may have easily led the elderly man to his grave.  “Whaaat!!! What is happening, Elorm?" His voice shook as he screamed.  Elorm, anticipating danger, chose to assume the role of the victim.       “Daaaddiiiii! Daaaaaaddiiii", she cried frantically. "He attempted to rape me, and I fought back!" She managed to say while clutching her father with he...

      Elorm sauntered seductively into the room and planted a kiss on the lip of the mummified young man.        “I am all yours”, she whispered romantically into his left ear. “You can have me!”        Mawufemor shuddered under the damsel's skilled caresses; his desire had suddenly increased tenfold. At that time, all he could think about was the delight of losing himself in the enthralling beauty of the exquisite creature before him. According to ancient civilisations, every man has two brains: one above (in the head) and one below (in his manhood), and they cannot both function at the same time. This was exactly the case with Mawufemor right now!        “Elorm! Elorm!!”Daddy called from the hallway!        Before she eventually responded to her father's summons, Elorm tiptoed into her chamber and wrapped a cover cloth around her alluring body.        “What to...

    Bathing was difficult for Mawufemor due to the bruises and sutures on his skin. Elorm, the daughter of the pastor and a final-year nursing student at the Ho Nursing Training School, attended to his wounds following his shower.      Elorm had the characteristics of an extrovert; she was a person with an outgoing personality. She was not as religious as would be anticipated of a clergy's ward, unlike her siblings. She enjoyed dressing in skimpy attire, much to the annoyance of her ageing parents. "It's unbecoming for a Christian woman to dress as you do...", her mother would often comment. "Don't dress like a harlot in my house," her pure choleric father would rather say. “If you do that again, I will disown you!" Elorm was accustomed to this empty threat, but she was always mindful of her attire while her father, the pastor, was present.    Nevertheless, regardless of her excesses, she was an attractive woman. She had eyes as brilliant as rare ...

     The aroma of the Jollof dish and brightly coloured vegetables adorning the plate piqued Mawufemor’s interest as his mouth began to water. Famished, he didn’t even have the energy to raise his head.     “Do you want some?”, his fellow inmate offered to help the starving young man.     “This is your third day in this cell and you haven’t had anybody bring you food. How are you going to survive?” the inmate quizzed further.     “I-I-I….”, Mawufemor tried to gather some strength to offer a reply to the gentleman whose mother had brought him food in the cell.     “Officer! Officer! The man has fainted o! Buei! Please help!”     It was Mawufemor. Time check: 11 a.m., Tuesday morning—4 days since Mawufemor was detained at the police station. He had endured three days and nights of torture and hunger, all because he had refused to admit to the crime he was being accused of.     “Carry h...

     Mawufemor ran the whole two kilometres from the main market in Ho to the E.P. University College Examination Centre, where he was supposed to write an Organizational Behaviour paper. While entering the exam room, he was panting and sweating tremendously. He was also 40 minutes late, as usual. “I’m sorry; you cannot enter!” The invigilator said calmly. “B-b-but I am s-s-sti-still within the-the-the t-time!” Mawufemor stuttered! The invigilator smiled. As an offer of assistance, she suggested that he double-check his watch. Once again, Mawufemor ran back to the corridor where he'd left his phone and grabbed it. “Please! You are correct! I'm late! But please forgive me. Last night, I was robbed!" He stammered again as he tried to explain himself. "When you students want to tell lies, you start stammering...", the invigilator mocked before allowing Mawufemor to enter the exam hall.      Mawufemor ignored her and rushed to his seat, almost in tears by this ...