Circumspecte

Thought I was done blogging for the day -- until I came across this BBC photo feature on Ghana's market girls or "kayayo". When I was back in Ghana, I would occasionally go to the Madina market in Accra with my mum and I remember seeing them every time. I often wondered why they weren't in school, why they were doing what they do and why they didn't bargain how much money was paid them. My mum would lament about their situations and each time she patronized their service she would ask them how come they were doing what they did. Unlike my mum, most patrons of the Kayayo's services are not as considerate and don't think twice about having them carry things twice their weight! This is a very sensitive topic to me, because the way I see it, a twist of fate, and I could have been one. I've been meaning to blog on this issue, but somehow it escaped me. Not about to let that opportunity slip by again. Alors, voila. Here's a youtube slideshow (by the s...

Hi Everyone! Hope you're all doing well. Can you believe February is just about over?! So far, 2010 is going great for me, hope it's the same with you guys. Anyways, this is a mini update. Circum-Vlog "How To Blog" Series: It's been a minute since I posted a new video. And it's not like I want to leave all you new bloggers hanging. Not at all. My computer is having problems and I don't want to risk doing any high-memory stuff (like editing and publishing videos) so for now that is on hiatus. I'm waiting on some accessories which I hope will be here within the next couple of days, and depending on how that affects my laptop's performance, I'll get right back to that. In the meantime keep sending your questions or if you need an immediate response, email me: j.abdulai@circumspecte.com . The Water Chronicles: So some of you might have seen Part I and Part II of "Calabash Tears". Part III is on it's way, I assure you LOL. I j...

Dear Valentine, "Should I blog on Val's day or should I not?" This question has been tossed back and forth numerous times in my mind. I've wondered: what could I possibly have to say about Val's Day that isn't already out there? Heck, there's an entire movie dedicated to the day. But finally, the story found me. Just as it always does. My "Gnashing" History In primary school, I gnashed. In JSS, I gnashed. In SSS, I gnashed. Right now, well, I've obliterated the word "gnash" from my vocabulary, so let's just say "I...". But wait. That leaves it open to interpretation, doesn't it? I'm sure many of you who went to high school in Ghana know all too well what "gnash" means; even if you claim to have never experienced it yourself. For those foreign to the word, hmm, how do I explain this? It's kind of like getting stood up? Or having an important occasion go unnoticed? Well anyway, I'll ad...

So. I normally don't write posts on all these social media tools and networks, because I can barely keep up. But Google has just unveiled it's latest competitor to Twitter and Facebook: Google Buzz ! Been trying it out, and I like it. One thing about Google is they always seem to look at convenience. Put chat in email, and everyone's signing up. Come up with your own version of twitter and put it in email ... and what? Everyone's signing up. I don't know what happened with Google Wave , but everything else seems to catch on. I've been saying this for a long time, and I will say it again. Google is taking over. Now with Buzz, here are some things I'm wondering about: - How will it affect Twitter...and to a lesser degree Facebook? - What will employers think about Google Buzz? More distraction for workers? - Will the productivity level of employees soar or reduce? - What about misdirected information...you know how you send an email to everyone in you...

[Haven't read part 1? Do so  here ] "This is all your fault!"someone hissed.  Jostled from her reverie, Amsatou looked up in confusion. She glanced at her young cousin to her left, who stared blankly back at her. Realizing that it was her other cousin who had spoken, Amsatou sighed deeply and looked to her right.  Leila's face had an accusatory air to it, and she was wearing her usual black top with the words "I Love N.Y." proudly displayed in red. Leila was a good five years older than Amsatou, but at 23, her smooth face and soft voice made her look as though she had just stopped suckling at her mother's breast. "What are you talking about?" Amsatou replied, feigning ignorance.  She hooked her arm securely around her bucket's handle and quickened her already fast pace. Auntie Adiza was a good distance ahead of the girls, and was still muttering incoherently to herself.  Amsatou glanced down at her aunt's small feet; ordinarily choco...

A tune of devastation plays over the land Time is trying to heal yet still no one understands A lifetime of work all buried under endless rubble And all over the land people gather in a huddle In search of an explanation that for now remains a mystery Mourning the many thousands, their eyes unleashing their misery Through disobedient tears And the debris of disaster does little to diminish their fears Dark clouds continue to hover ominously above Seemingly relegating all hope to some dark inaccessible enclave Forlorn faces now adorn the streets with much murkiness Shattered dreams scattered around with great sullenness The battle for survival rages on unabated While the shrill cries for help are constantly reverberated Across the globe with one simple plea, “Help Us” Gloomy images are beamed live on our TV screens Of mothers earnestly in search of their children And men so palpably grief-stricken That they can’t help but break down and cry As their whole life’s w...

Another double (multiple?) entendre piece. Enjoy! -- I'm in that mode again. You know, the one that only I can savor and others find irritating. I'm not trying to be anti-so[cial]. Far from it. I'm totally engrossed. In. YOU. Try as I might, I keep coming back to this place. If only to hear you utter one more line. And even when you fail to switch it up, and it's the same thing on replay  I'm too hooked to notice. Or rather, I'm too hooked not to notice...YOU!  People say "her ears dey sweet her". I don't care. Let them blabber. All I'm listening to is you. Some figure it should be a quick act - a hit it and quit it. But me? No way. I want to savor every delicious bit. You hear that? Every. Delicious. Bit. Now, I'm not saying that I overanalyze.. But the things you say, I simply can't resist. I have to comply. When you say sway slightly, my hips react on their own And you talk about beautiful smiles, my lips curve in reply My ears ...

Pitch dark. Either way you look at it, that's all it is. Black, dark, uninteresting, uninspired. You move your head to the right and you might as well stay in your initial position, nothing's changed. How ever did you come upon the depths of the Mariana trench? Professor A. certainly wasn't kidding when he said it was the lowest point of the earth. But even he hadn't the slightest idea of just how low it gets. Battered and torn. Tattered and forlorn. A misguided grin creeps upon your face. It wasn't always like this. Far from it. At one point, you were riding high, soaring to the skies.  Believed you'd landed among the stars.  And then, like all the others, you never saw it coming. Scorn reinstated. And oh, what the downthrow it was. Out flew the self-respect, in seeped the conceit To hell with the morals, who's even thinking values? In that vacuum greed and self-satisfaction took seed And boy, what a party they threw! Eventually, it appeared on the...