Love Myelitis

By Elorm Beenie

Love Myelitis is a book for all ages, touches on the fundamental stage(s) of lovewhich almost everyone was involved infrom childhood through diverse experiences from good to bad till become adults. Anyone who reads this book will be struck by his open-mindedness, his exhaustive understanding of human nature, and his acute sense of humor carefully garnished with the theme of the book. Most people find it difficult to talk about their past and subscribe to the erroneous belief that when you speak about your past, you give an arsenal to your enemies to gun you down. For the fear of people judging them by their past, they decide not to discuss it. This deprives the younger and even unborn generations of an in-depth understanding of life and living it. It is therefore not surprising that the surge in crime and suicide among the youth is astronomical. The author seeks to stem the tide of the increasing frustrations among the youths of today and forestall any mishap that might crop up from their actions. This book is a must read for all and sundry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Africa
• Release date: Jan 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482805611

Elorm Beenie

Elorm Beenie is a freelance writer from Ghana. Apart from being a writer, he works as artiste repertoire and publicist for celebrated Ghana artistes like Grammy nominated musician Rocky Dawuni, IRAWMA & MOBO Winner Samini, just to name a few.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Elorm Beenie.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4828-0562-8

                eBook           978-1-4828-0561-1

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Contents

*Blurb*

Foreword

Author’s Notes

Live Your Life…

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

*BLURB*

…From the same class, Nunya sat in the same desk with Akosua. She had a pretty feminine geography but her rotten teeth were a feature that scared him all the time. Apart from Sarah’s scary teeth, she had a boisterous attitude that pissed off everyone in the class, including Madam Tina, the class teacher. In the midst of the classroom drama emerges another girl called Alima, a transferred student who sat beside Nunya and Akosua in the same desk – they were all in Primary School then. Alima stole Nunya’s heart along the way and their love grew steadily until they got into JSS 3 – final year of basic school – when Alima had to travel out of the country without a hint about the trip to her adolescent lover, Nunya. Nunya was hard hit; he got into High School with high hopes of finding solace in another girl but all his hopes of finding love in High School was just a phantasmagoria. He vowed never to fall in love again but a year on, while he kept the single life (after High School), Abena proved to him that he was too special to stay single. The two fell in love and had quite a romantic relationship but just when the relationship was beginning to bloom, Abena dumped Nunya two months after she gained admission into the university…

FOREWORD

Most people find it difficult to talk about their past. They subscribe to the erroneous belief that when you speak about your past, you give an arsenal to your enemies to gun you down. They therefore resolve to burying their chronicles due to fear or victimization. For the fear of people judging them by their past, they decide not to even utter a word about it. This deprives the younger and even unborn generations of an in-depth understanding of life and living it. It is therefore not surprising that the surge in crime and suicide among the youth is astronomical.

In this book, LOVE MYELITIS, the author seeks to stem the tide of the increasing frustrations among the youth and to forestall any mishap that might crop up from their actions. It is a must read for all and sundry.

The writer does not only profess his literary prowess in this book, but he also took his time to unearth the challenges that confront the youth of today. Besides, he minced no words in answering the intricate and often avoided questions of love and relationship.

Anyone who reads this book will be struck by his open-mindedness, his exhaustive understanding of human nature and his acute sense of humour.

If there is any book for the youth that I would read again and again, LOVE MYELITIS is one such book.

- Courage Kofi Agboado

AUTHOR’S NOTES

…LOVE is a disease, methinks – a very contagious one. If there was a way, everyone would wish they would never go finding love after a horrid experience; but LOVE is inevitable. You wish you can live without it, yet you cannot. Once you’re caught in it, you forget every other thing in the world. It’s like you’re blindfolded when you are in LOVE with somebody. Everything looks so perfect before the eyes until you get caught in an emotional glitch, then you’d run away and loathe LOVE…

It is the most talked about, the most cherished, the eternally sought for yet the most delicate game to play on earth. LOVE is its name, even great men and people in the hall of fame still cannot overpower this game called LOVE. This alone explains how cumbersome LOVE is. People play it staying happy forever, others play it losing their lives, losing their jobs, and even property. Others play it missing their flights while others play it breaking their hearts. It can lead you into the worst circumstances; it can make you act weird and the whole world would never understand why you acted as such. It can make the whole world worship you; it can make the whole world hate you – LOVE.

Sometimes I wish there was nothing like broken heart in love but it would be very uncanny to assume so. Indeed, if there were no broken hearts, LOVE would have been a very boring business. If not all, most of us who have had intimate relationships have suffered at least one instance of broken heart. A broken heart though can be thorny, on the other hand, it helps us to strategize and restructure ourselves before entering another relationship, unless the driving force behind that fondness is wholly masked with LUST.

Frequently, when our love boats wreck we tend to blame our love partners unreservedly. Countless accusations, abstract curses and unprintable insults are laced with these blames we perpetually cast on them whereas it could be that, the love split was caused by us OR we were also part of the situations that led to the love wreckage. If truth be told, only one in a million of us acquiesce blames on ourselves for break-ups in relationships. The rest would never accept the truth that they were the cause OR perhaps part of the problem leading to the love break-up.

This book, however, is not a digest meant to cast guilt on anybody, nor is it meant to condemn anyone. Rather, it unveils many of the little but vital things we all go through in love yet somewhat neglect, which turn around to haunt us. The book title – Love Myelitis – in itself explains the premise on which the book is written. The first part of the book title – LOVE – is as easy as anything to comprehend. It is the feeling of tender affection for somebody or something.

Love could also mean a passionate feeling of romantic desire, sexual sensitivity or a profound crave for somebody. Falling in LOVE is simple; anyone can fall in LOVE anywhere, anytime, anyhow but sustaining LOVE is problematic! This problematic side of LOVE is what is paired with the second part of the book title – Myelitis. The word Myelitis is a two-word Greek combination. Myelitis was derived from two Greek words – myelo (which means ‘Spinal Cord’ or ‘Bone Marrow’); and itis (which means Inflammation). Hence, the term "Myelitis" means the inflammation of the bone marrows or inflammation of the spinal cord. The word Myelitis is undeniably symbolic of the medical field with a common example as Poliomyelitis which is a severe infectious viral disease, usually affecting children or young adults. Poliomyelitis inflames the brainstem and spinal cord; sometimes leading to loss of voluntary movement and muscular wasting. The infusion of this uncommon word – Myelitis – as part of the book title is employed in order to explain how thorny LOVE is. It also explains the effects of broken hearts or love wreckages; how injurious it can be. When broken hearts occur, it is likened to an abstract sickness which affects the heart and disturbs the mind. This abstract sickness however, as defined by the author is the inflammation of the emotional spine that cripples an individual who has been outfoxed by LOVE, thus, explains the book title – LOVE MYELITIS.

Careful study of each of the chapters in this book would reveal and also inform the reader about some petite but vital ingredients that combine to make a good LOVE recipé. The book actually stems from the genesis of love, which mainly begins from our infant days at school (since most of our initial life moments are lived there). It uncovers tangible love tales from the challenging experiences young folks go through at school trying to nurture love among themselves, furtively. Because these things are mostly done secretly among the young folk, they are exposed to many perilous things, which are best known to them yet they find it difficult to express openly. Sometimes, they wish they could share some of such experiences with their parents or the elderly but due to fear of being misunderstood or stigmatized, they keep such issues to themselves or continue to wallow in their love wooziness, which results in emotional sicknesses which they tend to harbour within continually, proving difficult to cure.

LOVE MYELITIS is a digest which exhumes such circumstances to the elderly. This however, is not meant to expose the negatives or creepy behaviours of the younger folks; rather, this book is meant to explain and educate parents and the elderly about some of the ordeals that young folks, especially teenagers go through. After reading this book, it is in my sincerest hope that parents, guardians and the elderly would make time to assist their wards as well as other young folks and guide them in their relationships – on the pros and cons – so as to avoid or minimize the thorny ordeals they go through.

Also, I am telling my own story in order to free the minds of many frustrated youths who in one way or the other have found themselves in similar circumstances as me, to FREELY tell their stories (not just love) as well; to educate, caution and entertain us all. It is on the basis of this thesis that one would find – after reading – that LOVE MYELITIS is not just a digest for the youth but a BOOK FOR ALL AGES.

Another interesting thing uncovered in this book is a typical slum life within an African community. The book introduces the reader to life in the ghetto. As it revolves around the toilsome lifestyle in the ghetto in subtle dissonance to the affluent lifestyle of the well-endowed in society; it also tickles the reader on some of the beauties enjoyed in the ghetto, despite the odds. But these ghetto chronicles as infused into the story however, are NOT meant to underrate slum dwellers or disrespect the affluence of the rich.

Another major spotlight on which this book is written is to promote interracial synchronicity hence; it is intertwined with bits of many varied but vivid cultures of various continents, more importantly, Afro-Caribbean cultures which are very conspicuous throughout the book. The excessive use of the African and Caribbean culture is NOT to incite eerie memories of slave trade or overestimate African and Caribbean ethos over other continents. Ideally, the figurative use of African and Caribbean ethos in the book is to create stronger relations between the two continents, thus, a dense bond between Ghana and Jamaica are employed in the book to acknowledge the two continents – Africa and the Caribbean respectively.

Besides, the key rationale behind the birth of this book is to rejuvenate and promote African Literature in Ghana as well as on the African continent at large. Though African Literature has over the years immensely influenced other continents, it is very uncommon to find the younger generation having a keen involvement in African folklore. Only a handful of the younger African generation has interest in promoting literature on the continent; and even the few who have the interest of promoting African Literature get fatigued on the way and pull out because they do not seem to get the necessary attention or commendation from within.

Sometimes, their family folks who should rather assist and guide them to brand African folklore in a suitable way for world consumption rather chastise them woozily. Instead of being guardian angels for these young folks, some of these family members tend to be family police against these young advocates who try to keep Africa’s vivid culture aglow. With huge influence of the Western Culture on the African continent, many of the younger generation who hold dear in their hearts sane African values are often misunderstood and seen as archaic in their ideologies and African ways of living; and in their quest to promote the POSITIVES of African culture are tagged voodooists or occultists.

In effect, the good African values, which were once guiding tools that shaped the lifestyle of the African child have been rubbished to nothing! Thus, this book – LOVE MYELITIS – is an emergence of a new revolution of AFRICAN LITERATURE.

Many of us have diverse love tales, hidden in us; some take the challenge to recount it to the world while others take it to their graves. But for me, I have found it necessary to tell the world about my love tale. Though some of the ordeals I have gone through may be nebulous, perhaps, somebody somewhere, I believe, may have a more intriguing love tale than mine – told or untold. It is my fervent hope and prayer that this book would serve all of its purpose. This is my story!!!

- Elorm Beenie

Live Your Life…

Protect a job like it’s an egg,

Smile like it’s meant forever,

Dance like nobody’s watching you,

Live your life like it’s programmed,

Laugh like you are the person who invented it,

Work like it’s your final working day before your death,

Admire your skin as if it’s a queen’s polished diamond ring,

Love your spouse like you two are the first

To fall in love even before Adam & Eve!

Chapter 1

I sat in my desk that morning reminiscing over some rib-tickling incident that happened a week earlier…

Akosua, the rowdy girl who sat beside me in the same desk was severely flogged by Madam Tina, our class teacher. She received half a dozen strokes of the lash that early Monday morning. Her attempt to swindle her dad of an amount of money for the purchase of carrots that morning was foiled.

Akosua had a ravenous appetite for carrots. To appease her crave, she lied to her dad that Madam Tina, had asked everyone to bring carrots to school.

Her caring dad, who could not read between the lines, combed the entire Township including the Central Market in search of carrots. As fate would have it, her dad couldn’t get any carrots that morning. It was too early for the produce sellers to start selling. Besides, it wasn’t a *Market Day. Akosua’s dad, visibly disturbed by his inability to get the carrots for his daughter that morning decided to accompany her back to the school and explain to Madam Tina how the laborious search for carrots that morning came to zilch.

Akosua’s dad recounted the story to our class teacher. But all that was nothing but a ‘Greek story’ in the ears of Madam Tina. She was astounded. She was completely nonplussed because it never came across to her that a little girl like Akosua could use her as a decoy to get carrots. To squash this loathsome behaviour of Akosua’s, Madam decided to ‘flog out the devil in her’. After all the steamy lashes Akosua received, she shamelessly came to sit by me.

I never liked Akosua a bit! All the big boys like Kwabena, Kilo, Collins, Frank and others would continue teasing me silently from behind – the classroom – anytime Akosua was punished for unruly behaviour. As memory would put it, any boy who had a rowdy girl (like Akosua) sitting by him and messed up anytime, the entire class would keep teasing that boy like forever – in this case, I was the victim.

Akosua was a complete nut. I’m not saying she’s the worst human but she was just an apology of sound etiquette!

Aside Akosua’s unruly behaviour, she looked gorgeous. Though a young girl, she was endowed – thick waistline and curvy hips to match her fulfilled calves – she came with a nice feminine geography every man would admire in a mature girl, unmistakably.

She normally wore a tight fitting pinafore over a yellow shirt – the prescribed school uniform. Her brown pinafore always had a support of 3 or more safety-pins holding some parts of her already broken zip on her pinafore. From the top of that aging zip, her school uniform creased on the right side of her charming hip bone. Her robust girly hips would halt any guy – who perhaps, was seeing her for the first time to watch her curvy figure again, if not for a third time or continuously.

Her virgin breasts, which looked like two *Bic pen covers standing up from her chest inside the pinafore were visible enough – Akosua started developing breasts at a very early age, unlike many girls in my class (like Annette, Alberta, Mabel, Dede and others who still had flat chests like a plasma TV). Although Akosua’s breasts didn’t look too big, they were visible – they were a little bigger than the size of a *roll-on ball when viewed from the outside of her uniform – if my guess proves right.

Akosua’s hair, cheeks and her skin, were a contrariety to her sexy figure. She had unkempt hair. Her cheeks looked too masculine. Her teeth were so brown like rotten Ghanaian coffee seeds – the worst set of teeth I’ve ever seen. Akosua had a frail skin – her skin always run dry and turns grayish anytime the Harmattan sets in. Her hair braids were always unkempt. It wasn’t permitted for females in the school to wear braids but I don’t know how Akosua’s parents managed to convince Madam Tina or school authority to allow her keep a braided hairstyle while the other girls in the school kept clean haircuts down to ebb – worse of all, her hair was always wishy-washy on her head.

Whether inside or outside the classroom, you just can’t bet your last coin on Akosua for an appreciable behaviour - she was a completely boisterous figure. I can imagine how her parents suffer around Sarah. She just didn’t care about anything in the world. All she always had on her mind was that, she’s also one of the living organisms walking on the belly of the earth. She ate and drank anything, anytime, anywhere and anyhow. We normally had Christian worship sessions at school on Wednesdays before classes start at 8:00am. Even during these worship sessions, you’d find Akosua chewing something in her voluminous cheeks – if not chewing-gum then perhaps peanuts or biscuits.

Sometimes too you would see her still eating Ghanaian snacks she picked from the local market the previous day – and I hated her more anytime I saw her with that *alasa fruit! Banana peels, corn husks, nut shells, toffee wrappers, soiled *Koliko wrappers, sharpened or chewed pencil pieces and gnawed gums wedged to the side of her desk were common characteristics that best described the ‘troublesome robot’ I was sharing a desk with.

This raucous behaviour in her always got everyone in the class insulting her at the least offense she committed. The more insults showered on her, the more idiotism she exhibited.

Mondays were the only school days you’d see Akosua clad in unsullied school uniform. On some Mondays, however, she would garb herself in the same dirty pinafore she wore the previous week. Her dirty school uniform and her stubbornness always made the *Green Section in my class get the last position on points every Friday. I was in the Green Section too thus, all the *Green Section folks – including me - sat in the same row in the class. Akosua was more than what could be described as an I-don’t-care-soul. She just didn’t care about anything in life!

"Oh my home,

Oh my home,

When shall I see my home;

When shall I see my native land,

I’ll never forget my home……"

[…don’t think too far about the lines above, they are lyrics from one of the elementary songs we sang those days after assembly and marched along with before entering the classroom]

YES! A new week has begun, another Monday is here – exactly a week ago Akosua was flogged by Madam Tina for telling lies. The wrist watch on Sika’s hand says it’s almost 8:00am again, classes would start soon. We were all seated in the classroom waiting for Madam Tina to begin lessons.

Out of the blue, I spotted a young gorgeous-looking girl sneaking her way down a big nim tree planted about 20 metres away from our class. The pretty young girl was led by a woman. The woman held a motor helmet in her left arm, clutched to her aging ribs. I fixed my gaze on them as an attempt to satisfy my curiosity. It was a scene better seen than described. That was the first time I knew females too ride on motorbikes. I still vividly remember every scene that day after several years when it happened. We were then in Class 3 – in elementary school.

I had no idea who the two persons approaching the class were. I kept looking at them until the ‘normal trouble’ surfaced again. The trouble came from nowhere than from the rowdy lass sitting next to me in the desk, Akosua. Nunya, why are you looking at the girl like that? She asked in her normal silly voice.

…There are two people walking towards the class and how come you knew I was looking at the young girl alone? I am not ready for any of your jumbles this Monday morning again. Step off my lane. Mtchreeeew! I refuted, with a hiss, loud enough to wake up a newly born baby.

Don’t spoil my Monday morning again like you did last week. And stop poking your nose into my affairs. It will serve you a lot of good if you spend that time working on your rotten coffee seed teeth. *Kokonsa! I added. I was really irked by Akosua’s words even though she was right in her guess that I was looking at the young girl. While I exchanged ‘mouth battles’ with Akosua, I heard the entire class rise in unison with that cliché elementary greeting… You are welcome Madam.

Ooops, little did I know the two human figures I was admiring a minute earlier had stepped into the class. All my classmates were already on their feet to welcome the new visitors; it happened so quick like a flash