Ghanaian Throwbacks: The Good Old Days

the good old days

The good old days were days were life was fun. Don’t get me wrong. Long ago, thieves invaded my father’s house and I was particularly peeved. My sweet sleep was disturbed, my family’s treasured valuable were gone, and I had to clear the whole mess. It is not an interesting experience as the only boy in the house; I was super furious.

I saw something in the pile of mess that diverted my mood and brought me smiles. It was a letter; a love letter; specifically, the first love letter I ever wrote but could not hand over to my childhood sweetheart at Primary 3. I was simply afraid of her. Well, I would not call it fear; it was a mixture of shyness and reverence for the beauty/perfect figure she possessed at that age. It was her display of a white set of teeth that complemented her dimples when she gave that perfect smile. That actually won my affection the first day I met her at school.

During class sessions, I usually busy fantasizing about meeting her alone in some corner. These and many other reasons motivated me to write a love letter to her.


The good old days letter began like this:

Basket Full of Love
P O Box Kisses
From My Heart

Midorfopa …. (Name withheld for Emotional reasons),

The brightness of the sun has rhythmically forced my pen to dance sweet words bubbling out of my heart to you. Ever since you joined our class, I have never been myself. I’m always drawing portraits of you in my sketch book. Because of my lack of concentration, I’m always in meetings over my sudden poor grades.

Sweet baby, I want you to be the only nkati cake in my pocket each time I return from my 20 minute-break. You are the only planet of my universe. Do not say no to me wai. I can’t handle a broken heart at this my age. Please.

Currently, I love you 99% just add your 1% to make the love we share a 100%. My love, please make me your Adam and I will explain to you why God was right in naming you Eve.

I want to scream your name in my dream every night. I am looking forward to more things o odo. Let me pen-off here before I write out every life in me unto this writing pad.

I long to see you at school.

Your eternal etern, and One and only admirer,
Paa Kwesi Forson


But seriously, if you never wrote love letters or received any in your student days then you missed a lot. One special thing about the love letter was that each one of my friends scrutinized the progress of work. Each of your close pals will add a line or two to make the poetry in the letter very tight. Cheers to teamwork during the good old days!

I could not help but laugh at myself all afternoon for the depth of naivety I displayed in my letter writing. My dad should have redrawn me from school immediately for causing financial loss to the family. I was so engulfed in the reading that I forgot there was some mess to be cleared. 3y3 asem oh!

The love letter cast my mind back to my many and awesome experiences in Auntie May’s class (p3). I realized there were many of the marching songs we sang at parade that I could not sing correctly; our seniors and classmates were mostly Humming Out Loud (HOD) or Miming Out Loud (MOD) different versions. But who can blame them; they are also singing what they heard from their seniors (standard practice). Good old days ampa.

The many twists to the hymnals, the Lord’s Prayer, the National Anthem, and the Pledge was suicidal; even “ashibee shabaa kontomire” was much clearer and better than the blemished-lines I heard students recite.

Oh how I love football; it brought all the boys in the school together like magic. When you hear ‘Tselensa’, ‘Case 3, 4, 5’, or ‘Fifa’, be assured that boys will skip everything. That includes skipping homework and house chores, or going for classes. Football made boys convert their socks into socks balls for his friends to play; not even smelly gutter water discouraged boys from playing their hearts out. Oh boys!

And the funny part. How many pens did you buy in a term? Hehehe…. I usually wrote my name and pen number on a white sheet and inserted it in the case of my original BIC pen. But still, the pens always got stolen before the close of my school shift.
Strange world, concert populace, funny tricks but the same trends. Saito dey bee pass…


What are your memories?

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Good Old Days Disclaimer:

This is to not to ridicule the public school system or anybody (dead or alive) but to celebrate God for how far He has brought some of us…


Ghanaian Story on Good Old Days

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