Misfit I am

It's not about fame; I could be its victim. It's not about getting a bigger name; though I'm the next big thing. I'm not about being a star; a means  to stand out. No.  Being on God's side is odd enough  I'm odd to the world - my personal paparazzi. I do stand out.  I'm... Continue Reading →


LOVE.PAIN ; a clear dichotomy

I said something cool. I said, “Sometimes pain makes you appreciate its absence.”

Album Review: THE NARRATIVE by Sho Baraka

The  Narrative is just beautiful. It's a creative masterpiece; a great narrative on black history and culture; a 14 track buffet of learning, art and activism; an embodiment of poise and wisdom communicated through a true and absolute worldview.

BEYOND BARS mixtape released.

Yesterday, I finally released my mixtape! Beyond Bars being mixed and mastered by yours truly isn't the only reason the project will forever remain dear to me. Honestly, producing such a descent body of work with the make shift resources available to me just proves how the hand of God present in any endeavour provides overwhelming... Continue Reading →


Guest Writer: Endesha Serwaa (Petroleum Engineer) ​Apart from diamonds, I daresay that heels are the average girl’s bestfriend. They add a certain touch of class to an outfit giving the wearer a certain 'je ne sais quoi'. But, ask any avid heel lover and they’ll tell you that beauty comes with a price; that price... Continue Reading →

Try New Things

People gasp uncontrollably the moment they hear me say that I'm not a meat person. Worse is the confusion I bring when I add that I cannot resist fish, eggs, and deep fried chiccken; the very reason I cannot call myself a partial vegy (plus I enjoy thinking of strict vegetarians as Tree-huggers).  My weird... Continue Reading →

The Boys Are Not To Blame.

We had sex! Remember? You and I did it raw in an agreed darkness. Am I still to blame? Ei Bisiwaa, do I wear this cap of inaccurate accusation when the whole world knows how a woman gets pregnant?


Countless graveyards remain rich,  Rich in the remains of great men; A people unled, songs unsung, books unwritten. Trash bags house the ashes of cremated dreams. Men surely live on, all dreams don't. Awakened by the ghosts of empty biographies, emptied I must leave. "It is finished" on the tombstone. A purpose fulfilled life, Lord... Continue Reading →

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