True Love; Guest post by Maame Akua Annan

​It doesn’t cost a penny to say hi
Neither does it fetch a dime to say bye

Cedi may Appreciate

Dollar might depreciate

But true love is inexpugnable.

It doesn’t call for a day to tie the knot

Neither does it clamour for a night to untie it

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Days chameleon to nights

And moments to seasons

But true love is adamant.

It never took the Saviour a century to live

Neither did it take Him a millennium to die

But the very substance that actuated the Father

To bestow His only son to the world

Is true love which never fades.

It never took your life to meet me

Neither did it take my sight to see you

But it will only cost true love to establish a dyad

And this love never abates

Memoirs of a teenager

​Above all mine is a love anecdote.
Like all other love stories, it involves chance, and a little of gravity.


IF THINGS HAD BEEN DIFFERENT, I’D BE called Nathaniel or Gyamera, and I’d have loved to be a member of the presecan fraternity, and probably would have had chapping lips year round. But I’m not Nathaniel or Gyamera, ’cause on June, 15, 2013 I (together with some mates of mine) was delivered from Cape Coast to Legon. This is why you are not, at the moment, reading from WordPress, the inspiring true account of a presecan called Nathaniel, who, things being different, might be named Zagga or Kane.

Full account of the story:

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It all began on June, 15, 2013 when many schools met or gathered on the various campuses of legon. Was this throng of schools an indication of any annual something? Hitherto, you’ll not know that’s why you should choose not to speculate, but to just keep silent and continue reading this piece.

At exactly 5.00pm, we had started making footprints towards the cafeteria. It is located, approximately, in the middle of the university.

A brief description of the cafeteria: The Cafeteria has long benches and tables. They are arranged such that each long table has two long benches slapping it on either side, horizontally. And they are arranged in two long columns( that’s if you are standing right in the middle facing one far end.) Aside the area where the benches and tables are, there’s an inn. A place where, we, the students marched to collect our food.


“This place looks like a hut in the backwoods,” a friend of mine, Ndur, whispered to me.

“hahaha.” I laughed.You know why? Not that it’s any of your business, but because before, I had also had same thought. But frankly speaking, you would have said same( that’s if you are kind). If not, a kraal.

There were many students taking their food from the counter. This had gone on until it was left with an ‘all-girls’ school. They had this light-green kilt-like uniform with a yellow collar and waist.  You wondering about this school, right?( duh).So we had to join them.

“Take your food please,” a female’s voice said helpfully. I had turned my head over my right shoulder to reply a mate of mine who had asked me a question.

“Thank you.” I replied.She was the last amongst her equals, and I was the first amongst my equals too. What a coincidence? Could this be an inadvertently fortuitous event? Maybe sometimes.She walked past me to sit with her mates, of course to enjoy her meal. After about a minute or two, we( my mates and I) had gone to sit to enjoy the supper too. Occasionally, I took glimpse of her. You can imagine the kind of things which went on inside this my small cephalos?

She had trimmed her hair. She has round, blazing eyes as if she has an eye protector on. She is cute; not too short, and the most fascinating feature I love about her is her pubescent body. Lest I forget, she has  enough butts and knockers.

I have always loved to see girls with hairy hands and legs. In simple terms, I’m indifferent to glaborous bodies. Don’t bother yourself thinking why? Because, myself I don’t know, but maybe because they are distributed sparsely on such areas of my body. After about fifteen minutes, they had finished eating, and preparing to go to their of room of residence. I planned to meet her, but I decided against it. I have always thought that things happened best at their own appropriate times. So I planned not to meet her

.They entered their bus nimbly. Later, I saw her through the less,very less, frosted glass. She was sitting at the rear end of the bus; she was quiet.

Momentarily, the sound of their engine faded away.


The next day was the D-day for the official commencement of the National Science and Maths Quiz.The NSMQ is an educational program organized annually for, basically, graduate Senior High Students. Previously, a contest was organized between two schools, each consisting of three representatives, and it usually begins at 9.00am GMT. Presently, it’s been changed. It’s now organised among three schools, each consisting of two students.Each school is entitled to some set of questions. A majorly answered question attracts three points for free. I’m still wondering how ‘free’ that is if one has to do work by answering?(duh).There are times when a major question is not answered correctly so it is passed on for a bonus mark (that’s if any school answers).

At 7.30am prompt, the various schools had gathered at the cafeteria to  take their breakfast. This time around HER school, WGHS , was the first to take because they had a contest to battle. My group was the last to take.One lucky thing was that SHE was not part of the final squad (but she was not a moron) her school presented for the quiz so she actually was left behind with some few mates of hers. I saw her from a distance. She had her glasses on. Her beauty had become indescribable. Continue reading In short, she looked ‘mwah.’

“My salvation time and day has come, and is now,” I interior monologued. I guess you were thinking same? Brilliant on your part if you also thought same. I walked ambly to HER. SHE was sitting alone, and eating. I shivered a little whilst I was walking to her. I’m not exaggerating; I’m only telling you what I truly experienced.Finally I saw myself sitting right opposite to her. I have always had this funny feeling:

“My first approach to a girl would be a debacle because some girls, at times, make guys who come thereunto look like Jerks or, synonymously, dolts.” However, you will not know until you’ve given it a try. The dialogue:

“h…i,” I said, with my mouth filled with gravity.

“Hi,” SHE responded.

“I’m Zagga,” I continued, and stretched forth my hands for a handshake.

“I’m Valencia,” she said too and shook my hands.

“You have such nice and charming looks,” I added.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

All this while, I was looking straight into her eyes. The reason being that anyone who broke an eye contact was seen as ‘shy’; I didn’t want that.For about three minutes, I hadn’t finished handshaking. Her palm was soft, and this reminded me of one line of a poem: 

“No one, Not even the rains, has such soft hands.” I, then, quickly admitted that, indeed, some poems are true; not EXAGGERATIONS!

Simultaneously, Kwame Acheampong was looking for me. Kwame is one closest friend I met way back in school, and he was our quiz coordinator. How we met was a mystery. It all began one day when his mother gave me a ‘lift’ from Mfantsipim( we had all gained admission into this great institution) to a bus station. Not Chapel square. Not Tantri, but somewhere farthest. There were so many ‘amanifo)’ , but…I just saw myself sitting in this woman’s 4×4 car.( amazing, isn’t it?) We conversed and she told me about her son, Kwame Acheampong.

Fortuitously in form 1, kwame and I met in the same class, 1E. We liked each other , but I liked him the more because he was, undeniably, a good student. Not academic only, but also in general matters ( including girls stuff.)Seeing us ( val and I) under a shady tree, Kwame never approached us. I later found out that it was his style not to stiffle words between two people ‘in love.’

“But we are not in love.” I wisecracked. He usually had this utterances of his so he recapitulated, “Hoh masa, nea ay3 yi de3.” 

Actually within me,  I wanted this ‘in love’ thing to happen fast. But naturally it won’t.(if it does, law of entropy becomes invalid,I reasoned.)( Haha). It’s all a matter of time.Valencia and I chat for quite long. We talked about christian life, a little about love stories, school life, freshmen, sophomores; not forgetting Interco and Superzonal competitions.

“You rarely attended the superzonals,” I asked curiously. 

“Yh. You right.” she continued, “I seldom did because it involved many schools and besides, my school was hardly first.Most often second; the worst being fourth and, you know, my school  was too great to suffer such blunder.” She ended her last statement with a smile, which supposedly meant she was being ludicrous, and that actually saved her from my critique.

“You fear crow…?” Just before I could mention it, she broke in. “I don’t fear crowd, just that…just that I’m allergic to  them.” She said hilariously. We all burst out with laughter. Just within that shortest time of laughter, I could realize only one thing. HER DIMPLES! They were as round and dented as an erythrocyte, but only that they were slightly conspicuous, even, with the unaided eye. Though I’m not the type that fancy dimples, I admired hers spur of the moment.

In all this the time took, my wrist watch had changed position facing downwards so I turned it under the pretense of looking at the time, but what I actually did was study Valencia’s reflection. I was trying  to figure her out, and sometimes it’s easier to do that when people don’t know that you’re looking at them. I watched her watching me. She had a new look, even better than before. She had changed her feminine pompadour. Her lips looked soft. All of  a sudden I realized that I was caressing her. Just when I decided to stroll with her, one of her physics tutors called for her. Her school had finished their contest and they came out victorious; How could I have known? Well, I could only tell from her tutor’s reaction and tone.

“Congrats.” I complimented.

“Congrats on…?” She asked unconsciously.

“On your school winning the contest.” I said

“Ohh yhh. Thank you. I wish you the very best in yours too.” She wished me.We stood, and then she gave me a warm hug. I held her palm as we walked. I left her palms just when we got to the door of her tutor.

“Catch you later.” She mouthed.

“That would be my pleasure.” I said finally and broke away.

Memoirs of a teenager

   Chapter 3
That evening, my group had to prepare tirelessly for the next day. This time around it was a contest amongst Mfantsipim (my school), Yaa Asantewaa Girls and Holy child school. Before all schools journeyed to legon, it was a corollary for all schools in each region to battle amongst themselves in a friendly way. Maybe, to reduce tension and build confidence.
My school had done exactly that with many schools in the central region. Some of which included: Adisadel college, Holy child, Wesley Girls, Mfantsiman…, and a host of others. Frankly speaking, not to boast, my school got the best track record. But a very humiliating one was when Wesley Girls, our girls school, beat us by 19 points. That day, I could really feel weightlessness as though I was falling freely in a disconnected elevator. I sweat like never before, and the questions they asked us, only God knew! But as the saying goes, “there is always light at the end of the tunnel.” Truly, our light showed when we reciprocated in that same manner. Thanks to the events that happened in that spacetime!

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The next morning we had to go to the cafeteria to take our breakfast, and prepare for the battle. We were the second group to contest, though. We had gone for our food. On my way to my bench I saw her with her mates in one corner. She watched me watching her. She smiled and waved at me. I also reciprocated.
When I was about five minutes into eating, she approached me and wished me good luck. I delayed with my meal only to see if she would approach me and say something. And she did exactly that! I shook her hands and kissed the back of her palm. She smiled and left.
My group hurried and left for the place of contest. The first contest was just about ending. They were on their last round. My heart had already started beating. PUM! PUM! PUM!…I wanted to stay calm, but I just couldn’t. I probably needed her presence, but there was no possibility of it happening so I had to do something myself to stay calm. I really was in a difficult situation. Difficult, isn’t it?
After few minutes we sat at a particular place and got ready for our facial make-up. I wanted to find out (why?)from the ladies, but I didn’t. I only found out later. That was when I got to know that make-ups were applied on the faces of all who prepared for a television program. The reason only is to add beauty to your face. Hmm. Anyways, thanks to cosmeticians! We mounted the stage, sat and scribbled some important facts before the contest commenced. We started with introduction. You introduce yourself and your school. There was always a scream after each school’s introduction. The tension had built up (maybe, to maximum. I couldn’t tell) and my heartbeat was pejorating. I’m sure if my BP was checked at that point the machine would have read ‘out of coverage area’. However, the tension and the uncontrolled heartbeat abated when we were through with round one. After round one, we were trailing behind Yaa Asantewaa with three points, with Holy Child coming third.

We continued the rounds as required and , finally, at the end, my school came up victorious.
I felt gay. She also was happy. We were both happy seeing our schools qualify for the next round. The QUARTER FINALS! which supposedly meant we were gonna see ourselves for a couple of days again. After departing from the stage, I met her outside. We hugged ourselves, and I kissed her on the cheek. Our buses were waiting outside to send us to our hostels, but she decided against it and made us walk so we could chat.
“So how did my contest go?” I asked.
“It was intriguing and exciting. Plus, I liked your confidence on stage. You were just awesome.” She answered.
“Aww, thanks for your compliments. I am so happy.” I responded.
After walking for about thirty minutes she said, ” give me your two hands.”
“Really. Ok.”
So I gave her my two hands with my palms opened. She placed her opened palms on mine and caught my fingers in her fist while I also flexed my fingers. She looked straight into my eyes. I got confused because I couldn’t remember any special event that had to occur that day. But she couldn’t see from my face too because the beauty of the moment had overshadowed it and rather produced a smile on my face.
“Someone once said that a friend remembers your birthday, but not your age. I remember both. Shouldn’t that count for something?” She voiced.
“Really, what date is today?”
“You mean you don’t remember today’s date? Well, if you don’t, today is 5th July for Christ’s sake, kane.” She said with her face grimaced.
“Ooh yhh. That calls for a celebration! But I don’t think you should grimace your face because I couldn’t remember. Besides, I won a contest. Erm…I understand it sucks simetimes. But if you didn’t know, I was just about getting my palm filled with a whole galaxy of stars just because of your smiles so you know what that means if you don’t smile for me.” I said, convincingly.
Just when I ended her smiles were all up again.
“Yhh, you look good in that.”
As part of the celebration, we walked into a pizzeria. We ate, and drank candy apple punch. The pizzeria was about a hundred metres from our hostels so after having fun we continued our journey walking and chatting till we got to our hostels. It was around 7pm. Our hostels were oppositely placed. We stood in front of hers. She had her hands around my neck while I had mine around the small of her back.
“I’m gonna miss you. And thanks for making today a red letter day for me,” I said.
“I’m gonna miss you too. And it was a pleasure having you.”
I hugged her and tousled her hair lightly. She then left for her room, occasionally waving until she finally disappeared.

The diagnosis


I was half dead to the world so I overheard them converse. I whipped my head around the room to see if there was anyone who might as well have heard what I heard. To my utter dismay, I was the only one in the room, lying on that sick bed. Was I suffering from a flu or meningitis? My heart begun hammering. Meningitis was one disease I feared most. It could easily take away all your precious life without leaving a remnant. I asked myself in a faltering tone if I was going to die. If I died, I would blame my parents for they delayed me in the house all in the name of divine healing. And if not for anything I knew at all, at least I knew that the bacterial form of this disease was a fatal and unmerciful one. It decides in whim to take your life as fast as it could. My heartbeat could not abate, but to only keep pejorating.
I laid quiet on the bed sobbing within my soul, when the door opened. It was a man in a white overall. He was tall and dark. His moustache and beard were scary. I doubt if he came purposely to treat me. He paced across the room, intermittently spying on me. 

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“Hey. What’s your name again?” He turned to face me while tousling his beard. He approached me and passed his right palm across my forehead. 


“Fine. We need a diagnosing machine to be able to detect what actual disease it is that is affecting you. But it happens that our only machine is faulty. We may have to transfer you to an equivalent hospital as big as this,or even bigger than this so that you could be diagnosed of your disease.” 

“My disease? Sir, am I going to die? I overheard a conversation about one matter being either flu or meningitis. Was it referential to me?” “That wasn’t about you.” he sighed greatly and continued, “erm…honestly it was about you. Your condition alternates between that of a flu and a meningitis. Which one in particular, we are not sure. But I assure you that you are going to be fine.” 

“You haven’t even been able to diagnose my disease. Yet you tell me I will be fine?What if the causative agent in my system is multiplying at a faster rate than my body can control? Won’t I be dead by tomorrow before sunrise?” I spoke with a burning heart. I held and pulled his tie, until he choked before I released him. He coughed hard, and left my presence. My mind could not become stable. I was so disturbed and distressed.

 At morning the next day the door opened; this time around, it wasn’t him alone. He came with one other professional. He also had a white overall. He was not as tall as the first man who came, but he was fair with no beard; only a moustache. He pulled an armchair from under a table and made himself comfortable. He asked for my hand and assisted me to sit up on the bed. 

“Alright. You shall be fine. For now, there’s no diagnosing machine to use, but we will perform a small exercise.” 

His tone of voice started to make me feel strong and hopeful. I nodded to his assertion.

“I would want you to bend your neck slightly.” He instructed me. They all were quiet while they watched me try to bend my neck, but I could not bend. There seemed to be a discordance between bending my neck and the twitchng of my knee and hip. When I tried flexing my neck, it was my knee and hip that flexed. He looked at me nodding his head in a confident way. 

“Thank you. We shall perform another last exercise and that will be it for your diagnosis. And then, you will start medication.” I smiled after hearing him. 

“In this exercise, you will have to lie in the supine position, and extend your leg after flexing it at your knee and hip.” I laid flat on the bed, flexed my leg at my knee and hip. Upon extending my leg, I felt a sharp pain in my thigh that I couldn’t extend it fully. He smiled and pat on the other’s shoulder and left my presence. 


Flu and meningitis are known to present with the same signs and symptoms– stiff neck, severe headache, fever etc. However, the simple difference lies in their diagnosis, of which in meningitis, a physical examination will suffice.

Brudzinski’s sign- flexing the knee and hip when the neck is actually supposed to be flexed. 

Kernig’s sign- extending a flexed leg at the knee and hip present with sharp pain in the thigh.


The lecture room was draughty, and its chairs and tables were also  dusty. Students trickled in with mincing steps as though they were shy of the students already seated. Myopics and hypermetropics intermittently removed and cleaned their lenses for a better view. I could hear birds sing and chirp on the trees nearby. 
The door opened slowly, then widely. It was the lecturer standing in the door. And I being at the far back of the room saw him first before the whole class. He was in an amazing plight. 

“I will be teaching for only 30minutes. I promise. We are discussing geometry today, and in this I will expound a recondite to you. I hope you enjoy it…Alright, mathematicians have told us that all real objects existed in three dimension. That is, objects with length, breadth and height could only exist. We-all, through the natural infirmity of our flesh, have believed this for so many years. But here i am in a surreal positon to disprove this long-lasted theory.” 

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After speaking at length, he sighed greatly. We all sat quietly and listened with rapt attention, although a few yawned portending either hunger or tiredness. But I guess they yawned because of the former (lol). 

“Let me continue. There seem to be another dimension of space. A critical look at the theory of general relativity will reveal a new dimension. The dimension of time! This new dimension of space seems to explain why we-all exist, in one way or the other. To make it simpler, can an instantaneous object exist? Well, i shall explain this later in the study.”

 The lecture seemed to be becoming interesting. At the pose of his question, most sleeping students woke up. Most of us began folding our arms across our thoracic. One clever student undistractedly gazed at the lecturer, nodding his head in a way that showed he was following the lesson. I was also in a pensive mood, but could not grasp whatever he said and meant because, at a point, I lapsed into an introspection, probably thinking about something. Something that I can’t put too fine a point on. 

“Erm, I think Yes. Because I have heard that anything that has a name exists.” George answered to the lecturer in a funny way. The whole class burst out with laughter. 

“Alright. Well tried. Another analogy from the three dimension of space explains that we are free to move in any of the dimensions, the easiest going either left or right; forward and backward; and little of upward because gravity limits us. But let’s look at this: 

If you sit in a chair for your whole lifetime without moving, will you still experience growth? Of course yes. But in this scenario the person will not be moving along any of the dimensions of space. So the question is, ‘which dimension of space will the person be moving?’ Obviously, he will be moving in the dimension of time! Interesting, isn’t it?” 

A smile flickered across my face. I began nodding in unison with the idea of the time dimension of space. 

“Einstein must have reasoned fast! What an intellect!” I mumbled these under my breath. 

He turned his watch to look at his time. It was closing time already. So in conformity with his word, he paused and closed us. 

“We will discuss this some other time. Enjoy your week-end.” 

This short story is to elaborate shortly on the fourth dimension of space–TIME! So that you will appreciate astronomy. 


  The Red Rose

 In a garden are flowers along the periphery

With different scents and colours, 

But my soul did pine to one 

‘long stemmed red rose’

How I wish I could groom this flower 

To make it mine forever, 

But it had an ambiguous fragrance 

That put thine in the repose position

The world would utter, 

‘time and tide wait for no man,’

But I just can wait to have this flower 

To groom and make it mine forever



She got into a car with Johnny and Raina, a seemingly nice, young couple with a baby, while hitchhiking to a friend’s birthday party. She never got to the birthday party. 

About fifteen minutes into driving, Johnny pulled off to a dirt road. He held a knife at her throat, and threatened to kill her. He bound her, bagged her and put a homemade box on her head. 

“What’s your name, and where were you going to?” Johnny asked her while she still had the homemade box on her head. She was quiet without any answer. 

“Hey, you slut, I am talking to you.” He mouthed while he smothered her through strangulation. 

“I am Nancy. I was going to a friend’s birthday party and I decided to hitchhike, and believing you to possess compassion and radiate kindness to me, you rather proved me wrong.” She whined. 

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She was squeezed into a coffin-like box, and kept under a water-bed. She spent all but an hour in the box. A day never passed without her facing humiliations like scolding, rape, and assaults. 

Being at the end of one’s tether in conditions like this is a next-likely thing to happen. But she restrained herself because the result of that is just an exacerbation of the illicit actions of the those involved- The captors. 

In the light of this, although her life was in limbo, she spent all her twenty-three hours traveling around her fondest places in her mind. It was something that made her happier and immune to the harsh conditions she faced. 

One night she was freed from 11pm-12am. Johnny had awaken her to warn her. 

“I belong to a child-trafficking fraternity. They know about your presence here. Don’t try to escape in an attempt of self-manumission. Otherwise I would be killed.” 

His countenance, coupled with his assertion, was true but she couldn’t believe at that time because he had lied to her earlier. (He had told her earlier that they help and care for strangers.) Without any evidence to the contrary, she decided to stick to his ‘plan’. It was only that night she enjoyed one of the nicest wines the couple had sipped early in the afternoon. 

She could have threatened him with his ‘plan’ though. But she decided to remain sober. After all no position is permanent! 

How could someone in a deep well like this presume so? 

On her arrival at their quaint appartment she had asked if she could get the bible, and Raina said to “be her guest.” Raina hadn’t been warm for several days. She had told Nancy before that her demeanor was none of her business so she didn’t bother probing further. 

Nancy either did one or both of these while she was cooped up in the coffin-like box: 

Either she read her bible or wandered around her fondest places in her mind. All was meant to achieve the same result-feel gay! She forwarded the preponderous of her thoughts to the bible. She prayed most of the time for a divine intervention to liberate her from this state of oblivion.


In the wake of tension and incriminations, probably due to her long prayers, Raina walked up to her one evening and told her that she needed to escape before taking her to her parents’ home while Johnny was out of the house. Even though it seemed Raina was helping her, it, in one way or the other, helped her in return. She had been scared of her husband’s endeavour, and that she had sought for a way to protect herself before her husband turned to her. She quickly hurried to the police to make her statement.

My 2016 realisation


Growing up, I have come to realise the momentous importance of meditation. During the zeitgeist of my teenage years, I condoned this realisation, even though I heard people talk about it several times. 
In the latter part of 2016, when I was frantically perambulating in search of knowledge, God being so good, I came across a book by Joseph Murphy, PhD.,D.D.- Think Yourself Rich. 


At my first sight of the book, I thought it was ‘one of those’ motivational books, but upon delving much into it I realised it was not any book, but a book that unleashes a certain God-given power vested in you. In this book, he highlighted a particular term- The subconscious mind. 

As a growing scientist I was familiar with this terminology, but did not know much about it. I probably saw it to be more of a philosophical term… 

Perhaps, there are some of you like me, and you have not had the opportunity to read such a book or any book tailored in that wise. That is why I decided to scribble down a gist. For those who know very much about the subconscious mind, I encourage you to judiciously tap the great power it harnesses. 

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An excerpt from the book: 

“You are here to…the treasure house of infinity is not to be found in a bank vault or a pirate’s trove. It is within your own subconscious depths. Begin now to extract from that marvelous gold mine within you everything you need- money, a lovely home, beauty, companionship and all blessings of life. Whatever you need, whatever you want, you can bring it forth when you learn to apply the proper technique.” 

The subconscious mind tends to work with some sort of mathematical exactitude (sort of boolean algebra). Whatever you impregnate it with, comes out as a magnified product. That is to say, in simple terms, when you think or put positive thoughts, you reap postive things. In the same way, when you think or put negative thoughts, you reap negative things. 

The subconscious mind is that part of the mind used in meditation-a time where you either reminisce or feed your subconscious mind with positive thoughts. With faith backing, people who meditate achieve whatever they are desirous of. I would bring the curtains down on this with: 

“Trust thyself: Every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the Divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events. GREAT MEN have done so, and confided themsleves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying the perception that the absolute trustworthy was seated at their hearts, working through their hands, predominating all their being”-Phil. Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Realise and with faith backing, unleash the harnessed power of your subconscious mind.



       Growing up under the weight of bigotry

                          leaves all uneven, 

         and every thing is left at six and seven 

       Silence, sometimes mistaken for sullenness, 

               may be an enemy to bigotry 

        just like the Lawd to His old vassal 


               For art is long but life is short.