Useless column with Mawuli Zogbenu: Football cholesterol

How did the Black Stars fare against Portugal yesterday? I slept in and turned off my data. I didn’t want any problem. My blood pressure is already high and you want me to kill myself by trying to go through the process of shouting ‘ajeish’. ‘ahh’ oohhh! kaiii! Never again! When the game is over, I can always find out the score and be free of football cholesterol.

I almost got caught coming home late from work yesterday. You know the only time you’ll know if your husband has started doing “the thing” is when you call him once and he doesn’t pick up, usually after work. Then he calls back and as he speaks you hear an echo in the background. 90% of the time he avoided the first call because he’s in the arms of his “catch” or vice versa.

He apologizes to the washroom to call you to lie about where he is so his “catch” doesn’t get to hear the lies you’re about to hear. Then you hear the echo in the background. I don’t know what relationship echoes have to washrooms, especially the washrooms in hotel rooms. Hmm! I still apologize for ‘network problem’. Either way, it’s the easiest excuse to give these days. Like a reckless driver who dies in a car accident. His innocent hometown witches and wizards take the blame. That’s all the more reason to drive responsibly as Christmas fast approaches oh, yoo.

Anyway, very soon the successful WASSCE candidates will start scrambling for the courses they want to take when their results are released. The kibble may not get what they want to do. In my day I had wanted to become a wanzam, but no university offered that, so I took it that way. I was not a science student to think about medicine and specialize in Ghana ecology.

So it was out of the question that I would be allowed to study medicine to become a doctor. The reason I couldn’t become a doctor was because my handwriting was too beautiful. I am sure you can clearly read everything I have written here, but doctors, they write with pen and only the pharmacists can see the legibility of their writings! Hahahahaha!

Bedu, if this is your first time ignoring the warning not to read this, you’re in trouble; very biggggg problems. My problem with some of us humans is why we choose to do the exact opposite of what we’ve clearly been asked not to do!

Dzifa Anadzi wrote to me from Atlanta, Canada, sorry Merica for reading last week’s article about my list of Ewe names and the meaning of their names and ‘collapsed’. I warned him not to read, but he “looted” it anyway. ‘Dzifa’ is usually considered to be the name of women and not men, but make no mistake – there are many male ‘Dzifas’.

Dzifa Anadzi got his Legon admission letter in the mid 90s and guess his residency on the letter…Volta Hall! Stay here if you don’t know Voltta Hall’s gender orientation. Unfortunately, he didn’t notice until he was chased off by the Hall Master of Vandal City for enrolling in the wrong hall.

Unfortunately I was there too and recorded this in my useless head and kept it until he called me from Merica the other day. Eeebeeei. Hmm! Dzifa himself was not moved as according to him that was his second experience after being accepted into Accra Girls for his high school! He only did one day at Agiss before being ‘fired’ to Accra Hi, where he really wanted to be.

Please Togbe tell our people something la ah! Let ‘Dzifa’ forever be a feminine name oo, yoo! Naming men ‘Dzifa’ is becoming a problem for our academic and medical institutions.

Precious Doamekpor (meaning Seduce me and see) almost died in the clinic last week. Awaiting admission to the women’s ward where a bed had been prepared for this homo sapien, it turned out that Precious was male and the men’s section was already full due to the delay in identifying him ‘genderly’! His meds included Fostino2 and admitted to the maternity ward! Case closed!

My own uncle, Gbagbladza, who has 8 boy children, didn’t want any more boys. All he wanted was just one girl he morbidly craved. Fortunately, his wife became pregnant again and recently gave birth. They were twins – a girl and a boy; he called the girl ‘Advantage’ and the boy… ‘Disadvantage’. Add their surnames; for a clue, my uncle’s name is Gbagbladza (cockroach).

One of the things I hated and never wanted to happen to me was wearing glasses. When the doctor told me to start wearing glasses in 2012, I protested. In fact, I took it but never wanted to use it. Ten years later, I can’t read anything if there aren’t prescription glasses nearby. My wife knows the “weakness,” so when she needs my attention at night, she hides my glasses, because without them I can’t possibly make “useless” video calls.

Come to think of it, I think there should be a law of nature to prevent spouses from wearing glasses. In broad daylight we can’t see everything clearly without glasses, but at night when the lights are off and we’re in bed together, we see ‘everything’ clearly! God is great. I think this was made possible after Jesus turned water into wine. In the dark we can see without glasses, but nothing in broad daylight.

This World Cup reminds me of my days in Motown; Imagine me playing on the school team. “Bob Satan,” the principal, and his team of sports teachers led by Mr. Asare found no viable students who could rely on me to play on the school soccer team. We never won a football game I played in; I played in the number 3 position. Every goal against went through where I was! Unfortunately there was another ‘useless’ guy, Obulu, half caste who played number 11. He was neither a winger nor a defender nor of any use. He just added up the numbers.

The dude was seen in crucial matches chewing sugar cane and in glasses – he was a science student with plans to study medicine and a science student with glasses is almost a guarantee that the student has a sharp brain and can do medicine! Only the two of us played football with sandals crossed; no fit for football boots! Why should they! Referees never took us seriously, so even when he committed a foul, he overlooked it. I remember the day I was extremely tired running across the field without my foot touching a ball, hoping my coach would replace me.

He didn’t! I deliberately grabbed onto an opponent’s jersey and brought him down; all in the effort to get the red card so I could rest! The referee didn’t mind me. I confronted him about his refusal to show me a red card! Still, he let me play. We even struggled to lose matches! Motown was lucky to have finished school and our juniors were thankful we got out of the Gray City early! We nearly collapsed the sports department. Our continued stay in Chimota never helped them in football.

However, the school did extremely well in hockey and track and field against Accla Aca and Legon Plisec because Obulu and I were never selected for any of these; we were such a bad omen. What was I particularly good at? Nothing except konkonsa and teasing innocent students who mind their own business. I was occasionally beaten by some juniors who had better built muscles than me for making fun of them.

On this unnecessary comment I’m not too sure if Mbap3 is playing in the world cup, have fun during the world cup and watch me play for Ghana and see which way the cup goes. We will win by all means. It is a prophetic and biblical ‘Let the weak say I am strong’ knowing full well that you are not so strong! Nice weekend; don’t hate anyone, but don’t love everyone! From Qatar, this is Mawuli Zogbenu saying, sometimes wear your pants in front of your shirt, just to confound the order of things. Hahahahahahahaha!

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Useless column with Mawuli Zogbenu: Football cholesterol

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