During lunch at work last week, I ate 3 plates of beans (which I know I shouldn’t). When I got home, my wife seemed excited to see me and exclaimed delightedly: “Darling I have a surprise for dinner tonight.” She then blindfolded me and led me to my chair at the dinner table. I took a seat and just as she was about to remove my blindfold, the telephone rang. She made me promise not to touch the blindfold until she returned and went to answer the call. The beans I had consumed were still affecting me and the pressure was becoming unbearable, so while she was out of the room I seized the opportunity, shifted my weight to one leg and let one go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of a garbage dump! I took my napkin from my lap and fanned the air around me vigorously. Then, shifting to the other leg, I ripped off three more. The stink was worse than cooked cabbage. Keeping my ears carefully tuned to the conversation in the

A HR Manager, his Assistant, an old woman and her young daughter are traveling in a train and during the course of time get themselves introduced to each other and become temporary friends. The train goes through a tunnel and it gets completely dark. Suddenly there is a kissing sound and then a slap! The train comes out of the tunnel. The women and the Assistant are sitting there looking perplexed. The Manager is bending over holding his face, which is red from an apparent slap. All of them remain diplomatic and nobody says anything. The Old woman is thinking: “These Managers are all crazy after girls. He must have kissed my daughter in the tunnel. Very proper that she slapped him.” The Young girl is thinking: “The Manager must have tried to kiss me but kissed my mother instead and got slapped.” The Manager is thinking: “Damn it. My Assistant must have kissed the young girl. She might have thought it was me and slapped me.” Now guess what the Assistant is thinking. Now ho

Greatness hardly ever comes by accident, nor is it imposed by divinity on an unwilling people. A country, like a person, must prepare—be prepared —for greatness. It starts with dreaming greatness, imagining it, contemplating what it must take, and deciding that the venture is worth the risk, that we’re willing to invest the time, intellect and material resources to translate the dreamed into reality. Do Ghanaians dreamed big? In words, they do, but not in deed. In the 1960s through the 1980s, Ghanaian “leaders” used to speak of “this great nation of ours.” But even they have abandoned that species of bad joke! Now, they speak of; "better Ghana", “moving the nation forward” or “delivering transformational leadership.” But the rickety molue they claim to be moving forward is in reverse gear, headed, any moment, for a jagged gorge. Ask any Ghanaian official what “transformational leadership” they have delivered and you’re bound to hear such fatuous lines as, “I purchased 100

I was never a part of Komla Dumor’s inner circle. He never called me out for a drink. And he didn’t share any secrets with me. I am just one of those guys who enjoyed the privilege of working with him. That was more than I could ever ask for. I wasn’t with him at the beginning. I couldn’t have been with him at the end. But in between, our paths crossed and that’s how I get to call him a friend. A blessed friend. A friend endowed with so much talent that whenever I heard his voice I couldn’t help but marvel at how one man could get so much. He had an excellent voice. The truest voice of a broadcaster. That voice was an instrument and he knew how to play it like a virtuoso. He could capture any mood with that voice in a manner most broadcasters struggle for years to achieve. Those inflections and the ability to modulate the voice to suit the occasion came to him naturally. It was an art. He knew his art. He knew his art because he never stopped learning and looking for ways to perfect i

Never argue with a woman, just use your brains like this guy. A man went on a night out with his friends the wife is furious and tells the kids that when he comes back they must not open the door for him. At about12 o'clock the man comes back and knocks... The Wife tells him, "Go back and sleep where you are coming from" and the man answered, "I'm not here to sleep, I'm here to collect condoms in my room on top of the table or give it to me, there'r lots of women at the party!" The wife opened the door and said, "idiot" u are not going anywhere!" *Don't laugh alone SHARE this joke. Make others laugh too!

The grand passion of Africans under class and marginalized under-achievers is to talk familiarly with “exalted personages” and entertain them with buffoonery. Little do grovellers care whether the big man is laughing at their tinseled erudition or mocking at their lowly status. Bigmanship by affiliation tickles the opportunist, who would endlessly crave the indulgence of the personality cultists for material advancement. Among personality cultists are politicians in high office, chief executives, top government officials and other movers and shakers in society, who can link one to power blocks. The politician speeds away at top gear, with gun-toting junior military cadre, excitedly clearing the crowded traffic jams for them to pass the people they are supposed to govern. He borrows money from banks and does not pay back. The fund is written off as bad debt. The politician breezes into the Director’s office, causes all those being attended to, to go out and wait. He spends leisur