Authors Note: I am majoring in Adult Education. This a short essay I wrote some semesters ago.Thought I should share.


When a lot of people hear ‘Adult education’ they imagine  adults learning to read and write. That is known as adult literacy and it is just a little aspect of adult education. In my first year at the university, I learnt new definitions for Education and Development. I learnt that both Education and development are defined as ‘acquisition of knowledge, skills and attitudes to manipulate available resources in order to improve our quality of life’. For the longest time emphasis has been placed on the said future generation but I think improving the quality of adults will inadvertently affect the future generation. Adults in the society are those who can make immediate changes that will transform Ghana in the next 60 years thus its prudent to focus on them and in the long run achieve development. The future of Ghana and its transformation begins with Adult education.
Adult education would focus on helping adults to acquire active knowledge that will help them to actively make better decisions in terms of trying to deal with corruption and bad governance. Literacy and Computer literacy education will leave citizens in Ghana ready and capable to share their practical ideas to solve national problems themselves. A great deal of  public seminars, workshops ,discussions, talks, lectures, symposia should be organised  regularly and continuously such that Ghanaians will  have current information and thoughts on all matters affecting the county. Regular self improvement courses  organised will ensure that workers in both the private and public sectors acquire modern and feasible ideas to further improve themselves such that it affects Ghana’s development.
The practice of adult education will lead to “manipulation of  resources to improve their lives.” In other words, knowledge and skills acquired from learning will lead to technological creation and advancement. Educational programmes will help create technology  that suits the Ghanaian social context and climate while directly making use of the available resources in Ghana like agricultural produce(cassava, mushrooms etc.), waste and so on. Thereby creating affordable Ghanaian made commodities, jobs and economic stability. These modern and cost effective technology would help in areas where Ghana is facing problems associated with  health, agriculture, transportation, sanitation and communication.

 Adult education  also focuses on entrepreneurship and innovative ways of solving problems. Educational programmmes in the formal , semi-formal, non formal schools(vocational and technical) must be readily applicable and encourage the youth to create and manage their own businesses. Adult education must be liberal as possible, allowing students to learn a wide range of  courses. Entrepreneurship skills, creativity and innovation courses should be actively provided and the youth who are engaged in their own businesses should  be encouraged by award schemes and financial support from governmental agencies. This will encourage more Ghanaians to create employment for themselves and others in  all industrial sectors.
Adult Education should be  the priority of every developing country because the transformation begins now.



Authors Note : Hey there! Its been a while.So I submitted a story to Afreada x Africa Writes competition judged by Warsan Shire .It almost made the shortlist!!!I am officially a writer!!! Enjoy.


Mother says they are locked rooms inside all women. Not all women but women like me. She said that those doors are unlocked by soft, little fingers and shrill cries and talcum.

 In the hospital room, the nurses tell me to push, so I push , I strain to expel  it out of my body so it can finally unlock the rooms inside of me but it doesn’t come out. I grunt, this hurts. I smell blood. I know the smell of blood  but this one smells different like there’s something else in it. I grip the edges of the bed  and push harder. Between the sweat in my eyes, one nurse talks to another who whispers into the ear of the head midwife . I am still pushing.

” How can a girl be this manly? Are you sure she doesn’t have a penis?” The girl’s uncle asks as he watches the girl slit throats of the chicken ; three of them, for soup. The girl’s father laughs. “The devil wanted to give me a girl but the Creator trapped the spirit of a male inside her.  She’s my son”. He pauses then continues “And daughter”. The uncle replies “A man doesn’t fear blood, a woman is supposed to”. 

“I can see the head” the excited looking nurse squeals. This must be her first birth. This is mine too. Ma  sits outside in the lobby. Jerry is at work .Pa is home he says he’s guarding properties but we all know he fears blood. I grunt, the midwife is now smiling at me. She comes closer and  wipes my forehead and reassures me “We are doing well. Just keep pushing”. She has kind eyes. I push again this time it moves further out of me.

Why isn’t she crying? The girls mother’s friend asks her. They are the girl’s auntie’s funeral. The dead woman was literally her best friend .”Always spending their times together”. The girl’s eyes are red but dry.” She cried yesterday”. The girl’s mother lies to her friend. “Really? This daughter of yours is really strange .Why does she not wail as we do?” “Leave her alone her locked rooms will open. When she hears the cries of a baby and feels its heart beat alongside hers, she will become a woman.


Something’s wrong. I feel it. I feel it come out of me. I expect that my unlocking is here, that it will make me a woman. I wait for the cries that will burst my rooms wide open and make me woman-ly. They rub the baby’s back again and again and again. The silence is deafening. The newbie nurse tries masking her fear. Then a shrill cry breaks the silence. I feel relief but no doors unlock. I still feel as I have always felt. I am still who I always was. Have I become a woman now?


Authors Note: Currently writing exams.This poem explores our connection with our land(s) & nature and thriving in them.It was inspired by a scene in a show where an Red indian relishes in her identity.Her name was wander lily.

                             WANDER LILY.

A daughter of the land,

In her rightful place 

Singing for the earth of her fathers.

Setting examples

Breaking fragile ceilings

Freeing dreams.

Wandering in the waters.

Running in the forest, among the trees.

Her toes breath in the messages of the rocks. 

Her fingers pluck lilies

They recognise her.

She wanders in the land of her mothers not because she’s lost

But because she belongs.

And there’s so many beautiful to see

In her own land.


AUTHORS NOTE : Hi readers . Hope you are well. Here is a special post for a close friend of mine who has found his other half. This is for you Simon And Rejoice. Congratulations. Much Blessings!


So it was a beautiful 14th

When he made the vow

The one whose name means

Hear. Listen

Had heard. Hard listened  to the 

Sweet voice and character

Of  Rejoice

And indeed together, they Rejoiced.
“Hear , Listen” Simon

Rejoice for finding one

Who brings joy, a personification of joy itself

A guarantee

A soft palm to wipe indelible tears

To balance the scale, to make you whole

Hold what is dear dearly ;Forever

Let Rejoice make you rejoice

And make her rejoice
So it was on a beautiful 14th

When she made the vow

One’s whose beautiful laugh meant joy


She had listened to the sweet words and character of


And indeed they rejoiced together
“Rejoice, be full of joy” Rejoice

Hear. Listen

Good things come to meet good things

Princesses with smiles like yours

Are painted into the deep blue night sky.

But when goddesses like you wed

Saying “I do”

Men sing, Angels sing, Jehovah blesses

You now have a soft palatable ear to listen,  to balance the scale

To make you whole

Hold what is dear dearly ; Forever

Let Simon make you rejoice.

And make him .You. Rejoice
Laughs will come, clinking between teeth,

And tongue spilling light into this world

Tears will come , scathing teeth and tongue, adding 

To this dying world

But Remember let the third rope be the infallible bind of hope and resilience

Truly I envy you

Because one hears and the other cheers

Two halves of a human

To balance the scale, to make you whole

Hold what is dear dearly ; Forever.


A barrel of love

Simon. Rejoice

A basin filled to the brim of friendship

Simon. Rejoice

A container of faith

In him. In her

A portion of loyalty 

For him. For her

An amount of lust ; reasonably

For only her. For only him

A thorough liquid melding map of

1Corinthians 13 : 4 – 7

The greatest : A word of Jehovah’s word

Simon. Rejoice

Love never fails.



Once upon a time

There lived a boy with tear drops

On his face

Tears that meant nothing

The boy that smiled and laughed and teased

He reminded me of me

He was my friend

He was my bother

PS: There lived a girl too

       Who became my friend’s friend

        She became my sister.


INDEPENDENCE :A radio Drama Series

Authors Note : Heyy. Remember I told you about a writing job . It was about a radio drama series titled INDEPENDENCE .It is airing on Citifm 97.3 fm at 9:15am with repeats at 7:05pm. Find us on twitter @documentaviz  Facebook  : Independence radio series

The series chronicles major events that occured in Ghanaian history leading to independence in 1957. The Battle of Cape Coast, The battle of Nsamankow, The bond of 1844, The Sagrenti War , The Christianborg Crossroad Shooting, Kwame Nkrumah and the big six arrest and others.This is an opportunity to learn more of Hhana and its long winding history.

Here is a teaser 

Visit for more information


Authors Note: This vacation has been hectic.I got a writing job(And its cool roff).My serial story is almost finished.Enjoy this piece on death, pain and mourning.

Black Spiders

Red Cobwebs

Tears and anger stirred in tar

Spiced with ginger

For when death comes,

It cares not for vanity

It cares not for pride 

Or haughtiness

Or prestige

Neither doesvit care for white or brown or green or yellow or pink

Pain is colourless.


AUTHORS NOTE: Hi , Its been a long time hasn’t it?.I’m still battling procrastination but working on the series.Meanwhile, enjoy this.

Beautiful man,


He fades.

His stem droops and the pot of gold

On his neck, slowly dulls, losing their glitter

The gold ,specks of it,

Now lies in my pot.

Who knew that antiques  died too.

That beautiful old things cracked.?broke.? faded.?…

Like naphthalene.

It dies beautifully like naphthalene.