How Far With Me?

I was formally matriculated into Ghana Institute of Journalism (G.I.J) on Friday 18th October, 2013. I have already written two letters to my father; a poem and an article, which I know very well that he cannot read (likewise my mother)… heehaw. My siblings are so busy in and outside Ghana working extra hours to support my education, so they seldom or don’t read my blog.

But I am sure of one group which will - My Friends. So this article is basically for my True friends, Facebook friends and Acquaintances. To let them know how far with my schooling.

We’ve had our Akwaaba Week Celebration, during which we had a cooking competition among halls, Mr. and Miss Akwaaba contest, sports activities, a tour of the Republic of Togo, and an after party at a nightclub, among many other activities. I was more of an observer as any filmmaker would. Fashion dominated the whole ambiance. That week was all about having fun.

You might think of this as absurd but I love being in the library than in class. Because I feel at ease reading language-literature and psychology books, for as long as I want to, than sitting for 2 hours to listen to lectures. For now, I am concentrating on books that will improve my writing skills. So I chose to borrow a writing skills book every two weeks. Even though I have passion for Film-making, I have intentionally ignored books in the Ghana Academy of Arts and Sciences’ shelve. “I need to be able to write well before I switch on lights and camera” I told myself the first time I saw a book titled studio photography.

I am still in a state of oblivion about what the subsequent weeks, months, semesters and years would be like (academically and socially). I have so far been able to secure few roles with regards to student/club activities. Least of them is the position of Electoral Commissioner for my class.

Fortnight after I started school, I became a reporter for Keteke. It is a news reporting club on campus and I am the first and as at now, the only fresher to become a member of the editorial board. I was introduced to KETEKE by Gabriel Obodai Tobgor Ashong; the GIJ-SRC General Secretary. He and some executives of the club cited my poems and articles that I posted on GIJ-Facebook groups and thought that I could be of use to the club. So they looked for me and gave me an assignment which had encouraging feedbacks so far. He also introduced me to GBCs Curious Mindz.

On Saturday October 20th, around 9am, I was fast asleep resting after reading the previous night. Then a phone call woke me up. “Hello Fahd, I recommended you for media and publicity committee under GUPS……….and so I want to hear from you if you accept the offer.” Fusena Aziz (level 300) the local GUPS Treasurer spoke. You don’t expect me to say “No” do you? I went to AUCC campus in Adabraka later in the day to be sworn in at the General Assembly. I became a member of Media and Publicity committee under the Ghana Union of Professional Students (GUPS). We’ve had our first meeting as a committee and I was commissioned the Assistant Editor of the unions’ tabloid - The Professionals.

I chanced on the position of the General Secretary of Ghana Muslim Students Association (GMSA)-GIJ. The secretary was a Diploma 2 student who resigned because she was preoccupied with her project work. Some executives and some few members unanimously voted me as the new General Secretary at the mosque where she declared her resignation.

Now, you know what outside the classroom looks like for me. As for the inside- it is hot. But I am sure to come out as safe as a bakeware if I do what I am supposed to - to study.

Maybe not all that I watched in Suncity on GTV was real. Because I am not enjoying a boy’s perceived social life of a university. Partly because of fiscal reasons but it will get better soon. I am working on getting the least necessary equipments needed for me to unleash my Filmmaking talent. Since I cannot afford a DSLR Camera or an Apple Workstation, I am concentrating on my writing skills because, for now, writing is cheap. All I need and pray for is a sound mind, strong body, divine guidance and blessings.

Ladies? The beautiful ones outweigh “the others.” but they all look good in their own way anyway. I sometimes wonder what their perception about university is. “Is it a fashion hub or a knowledge hub?” I ask myself when I see some of them. Sometimes I wonder how long it took them to make-up. I think some spend a whole day thinking about what-to-wear or look-like for the next day. But there are some simple serious ones too.

I do not know of other campuses but in GIJ, There are a lot of clubs to join and a lot to learn and earn. But the most important thing to do is to be associated with a club whose orientation has something to do with what you want to do after school. This way you can be ready for life beyond university.

As a former student stated in his blog post, “everybody knows everybody” because the campus is not as big as Legon. I make new friends (from any level) almost every day and I am especially getting appalled by remembering names and taking phone numbers.

“Education is what you present when you cannot find your certificates.” Zain Quotes said, remember? So I want to improve my creative-writing before I turn 20 next year in April. I have you all (family and friends) at heart. Read my blog; fahdmahama.blogspot.com. And pray for me like I do for you. Because we are all on the same hustle.

@_fahdmahama

Auntie Adiza Tells Her Story

I wrote this while in Senior High School and was published in NEWS-ONE NEWSPAPER and ONLINE at news1ghana.com on the 7th August, 2013 . 

“My Brother, My Friend I love my brother, my brother loves me. My friend, my hero, he always will be. In sundry ways our uniqueness is clear. He likes to go far, but I favor near. He likes to play sports and being outside. I prefer play music and playing inside. Sometimes we fight and scream at each other, but he is my friend for he is my brother.” Michele Cobb quotes  

One day, Auntie Adiza was in her kitchen preparing food for lunch. She was cooking “jollof-rice” with cabbage stew. It was the stew her kids loved the most. The food would be ready in about thirty minutes and all she had to do was to cover it and allow it to warm a little. 

All of a sudden, she heard voices from her sitting room and she quickly came out of the kitchen. 
“What is it?” she asked. 

Ali was holding a television remote at one end while Amina held the other end. They were trying to pull it from one another. 
“Give it to me” Auntie Adiza instructed. Ali pulled it from Amina`s grip and gave it to their mother. 

“It’s okay” Auntie Adiza said while taking a sit on a sofa beside the television. “Sit down my children”, said Auntie Adiza. Ali sat on her right and Amina sat on her left side.

Auntie Adiza was a cheerful plump woman with a round face. She did not take any corporal punishment on her kids to correct them. Despite her giant stature, she only looked at any of them when the person is doing anything wrong and without saying any word you could feel the disapproval. Ali was slim and stood tall. He was two years older than Amina; who was ten years old. Amina stood as tall as Ali but was fatter than him. They both attended the same school and always quarreled with each other.

“My children” Auntie Adiza said. 

“In every relationship, there are ups and downs. When there`s a fight it helps both parties to know the likes and dislikes of one another. This would make your relationship stronger".

"When I was in Secondary School; which is now Senior High School, I had a friend called Rukayatu. She was called “Ruky” for short. We both lived in Nima. I always went to her house to go to school together. When it was time for lunch at school, we eat together. We also did homework together and explained things to one another; things we did not understand".

"day it was time to go home and I was finishing my class work at the same time. Ruky asked me to leave it for the next day else we will miss the “trotro’’. I was so engrossed and I did not give her attention". I was solving mathematics and it was my best subject’’. 

“Which school did you attend?” Amina Interrupted. 
“Presbyterian Secondary School-LA” Auntie Adiza answered and continued. 

“It was a very nice school and I loved everything, the atmosphere, teachers, students, and 'Sir Sammy' the gate man. The Headmistress was very inspirational. Her name was 'Shine Ofori'. Miss Shine brought a lot of development to the school, the three storey building in front of the computer lab, renovation of Science Laboratory and brought good teachers to the school”. 

“Please mum, continue the story” Ali intruded. 
“Oh where was I?” Adiza ask.  
“You were doing your class work and…” Ali replied. 

“Yes! Mathematics! I loved mathematics and I was engrossed in the work so much that I did not pay attention to Ruky. She got angry and left. Before I finished my exercise, she was already on the bus which take-off as I was getting close to it. I had to walk home which took me about an hour. I felt guilty and worried".

"The next day I went to her house and I was told she had already left for school. At school she did not talk to me. I tried to talk to her and let her know how sorry I was but, she did not mind me. I could not eat at lunch and it was guilt all over my face. Later in the day she approached me and told me to let go everything and that she overreacted. I told her I was the one to be blamed".

There was a smell from the kitchen and it meant that food was burning. 
“Let me go and check on the dish I will continue later. Wait for me at the dining table” Aunti Adiza said
Ali and Amina got up excitedly and running to the table on the other side of the room. They seemed as if nothing had happened. When their mother came out of the kitchen holding their favorite meal, it was as if they were injected with joy. Ali was hitting the table with a spoon and Amina singing some weird song. Auntie Adiza placed the food and started to serve them. She lamented “I don’t want to see you quarrelling anymore ok” 
“We won’t mum” they both replied. 
“Mother, continue the story” Ali reminded. Auntie Adiza smiled and said 
“Well, we forgot the past and became friends once more”. 

Fahd Mahama

@fahd_mahama

A LETTER TO MAHAMA

I saw a hand passing to me the admission letter I bought and filled, with the same picture and my handwriting. I was very confused that night and could not wait for morning to come. When it did, I woke up quickly and without taking my breakfast, I set off to come to GIJ to check the admission list. After careful scanning, I saw my name and ID.

I was uncertain as to whether it was my name or not. I doubted the dream I had. Was I rejected or accepted? I’m very sure it wasn’t an Admission Letter I saw. 

Finally, my mind came to a halt from its cruise. I recited fatiha three (3) times and without looking elsewhere, I turned to go home. Even as I was walking home, I still doubted my eyes.

I wasn’t so excited until the day we (level 100s) were being oriented. I sat quietly in the Upper Lecture Hall, observing the atmosphere; I could tell from others faces, they can’t wait to get into the classroom. But I was thinking more than that. 

I was thinking of the possible connections I could make throughout my four(4) years stay in the school; meeting the right people and acquiring the necessary skills which will help me become a better writer and ultimately, a Filmmaker. This thought triggered me to pick my black pen and jotter to write a poem. My first lecture was Language and Study skills.

It has been approximately, two (2) weeks since I started University; GIJ. I have realized that truly, everybody knows everybody. Lecturers and students are like keys and piano. Friendliness and mutuality characterizes every setting. I could hardly distinguish a fresher from a continuing student. The SRC executives are not megalomaniac as one would have thought. The same applies to clubs and halls executives that I have met so far.

Apart from the summer hut, wireless internet and the round to clock neat environment, one place that interests me the most is the Library. 

I have passion for reading. Seeing a wide range of books from shelve to shelve, and from psychology to photography, has refueled my curiosity to want to know. I wish, by the time I finish my degree course, I would be able to read all of them. But unfortunately, it’s not reasonable.

Also, I have realized that, in GIJ, they don’t just train students to be journalists as I have heard; Even though I never believed because they don’t understand what journalism really is.

Students are trained to be communicators. So, it depends on individual interest and ambitions.
 
Read my blog; fahdmahama.blogspot.com as I take you through a journey of my four (4) years in Ghana Institute of Journalism and life beyond university. If you are a fresher like me, I wish you a successful academic journey.
 
Thank you!

@fahd_mahama

First Day @ School ( a poem )

#A_Letter_to_MrMahama
Daddy, I`m now a student of GIJ
That, which I prayed yesterday
Is now reality, not play
Now I`m so gay

My dream of becoming a writer
and ultimately, A Film-maker
is now around the corner
Praise is to Allah

I know you`re proud of me
Future is vague, let`s wait and see
what it`s going to be
But prepare for a joy spree

Like the bee and honey
My name and Success tally
Pray for strong mind and body
For now, and all of life`s journey



First day at school was too exciting. I`m yet to write an essay to tell you all you need to know. I might end up writing a book about my University life. Who knows?
but don`t forget to read my blog always
I wrote this poem while was waiting for Orientation to start.
  

@fahd_mahama

all iz well

Like the best of the idiots
A poet is filled with glee
and at ease with drama of life
The pen sets him free

Fears and tears erase
with ink from a tiny tube
What more can daunt the soul?
A poet, poor life cannot elude

Are words not cheap?
Or perhaps the best are lost in Webster`s
Then I will buy with emotions 
and pour on papers

When it stares with the left eye
Listen to rhythms of the heartstrings
"all iz well"
That`s the song that sings

I wrote this poem to express how (as a poet and many other poets) i`m able to overcome torments and move on with my life by just writing (poems, articles, and etc).I took inspiration from the lead actor of the Bollywood movie, 3 IDIOTS in which a song titled "all iz well" was sung.      
PLEASE READ AGAIN

MY WASSCE RESULTS

                            MY WASSCE RESULTS

                    Secondary School, I was told was the difficult and critical stage of the academic cycle. Four years ago when I entered SHS, I was a calm and innocent fellow of 15 years. 

                    I still possess the fair, soft and smooth face I had. My dimples were even cheerful then, than now. My smile still brings about debate among men whenever I passed by. I felt very pleased. I had plenty of males at my door. Gradually, I became much more concerned about my looks than my books. I had it all, the fronts, backs and sides were just perfect.

           In the second year I met him. He had it all too. Tall, fair, six-pacts and financially okay. I fell first and he fell too. I was, like they say, head over heels in love. 

           By this time, all the seeds Ma-alam Bashiru was sowing had fell on thorns already. I was gradually developing into a round character for Ma-alam Pampare`s next sermon.  It will be strange not to see me at the latest High School poty in town. The Sprite-ball, Re-Unions, and many more. My mother never really cared about my in-and-out movements. Perhaps she thought that I was growing and so I should be allowed to grow. Whenever I left the house I had leggings and singlet under my bright black abaya. I felt like yeah! its just a four year journey.

                   After fairly failing several exams, I found my way in third year through my form master who was ready to perform the custom. He suggested it anyway. Besides I couldn't afford to get repeated. So I went to his house and in less than an hour, I laid under him and endured his bad breath and groaning.

                    I went through my third year successfully and it was left with only 7 months to say bye to high school. By this time I had left my form two boyfriend and had dated several other boys who were richer than him.

                    I never anticipated getting pregnant at this point of life but I eventually did. My belly started protruding so I had to quit.

                    My child is 5 months old, now. I don`t want to tell you how disappointed my father was. All these years he was away in Atlanta; USA. It was after my misfortune that he disclosed some of  his plans for me. He thought I was busy with academics but had come back only to find me with a 5 months old year daughter as my WASSCE results.

THIS IS JUST A FICTION. RESEMBLANCE TO ANYBODY DEAD OR ALIVE IS NEVER INTENDED. I HOPE WE HAVE LEARNT A LESSON.

follow me @Fahd_Mahama

Instagram: @fahd_mahama

FREINDS AND FOES

I have come to realize that truly, when a day comes that human beings do not recognize their differences, they cease to be called human. A reflection of an encounter that I witnessed while in senior high school made me believe that more.

Me and my few friends went out of school to eat Banku in a chop-bar few meters away from the school; Presbyterian Senior High School. It was vacation day and so we came back quickly for last GMSA meeting for the term. We entered the classroom where the meeting was being held and we sat somewhere in group as usual. Some of us began to act frivolously or maybe were just trying to have fun because of the day`s atmosphere. But we were in a middle of a serious meeting and the president; Faisal Mumin was in front of us reviewing the activities carried throughout the term.
Maino Prince Jnr got furious with their actions and showed disapproval in a very angry mood. One of the wits; Triple Rumuor responded and it became a verbal dispute between the two.
The meeting was over but they were still exchanging aggressive words. As we were walking out of the school, we met Mr. Abubakar; one of GMSA`s patrons. He tried to resolve their matter. “duba yaaro nga ohh, ze rena ni” I recall Amadu speaking Hausa in front of Mr. Abu absent-mindlessly, when the teacher asked what was wrong? Mr. Abu tried his best but as you know, Zongo boys like us would not listen....lol..

We got out of the school compound and fortunately, a “trotro” was approaching towards us. We all filled the minibus. They were still quarreling. As they did, one satirical character I will never forget; Musah Sisoko Can Do, The Great Gambler, Can-do, Ladies Man, among other nicknames, was urging them to throw punches and said they were acting like females. We all knew he did not really want that to happen. He was only a comic relief in the whole drama.

I sat quietly in the rear seat of the trotro and watched everything like I was glued to a seat in a theater. I don’t intend to tell how it all ended but what I think is that, a little quarrel will help us to know how to meet with the expectations of our fellows. We shall know what they like and what they dislike. Disagreement brings true friends more close than before. These two friends did not end up as foes. They became closer than before. Real friends will stay but the bad-guys will vanish like “kush”.

follow me @fahd_mahama
and on facebook/FahD.MaHaMa

THE VERDICT(29/08/13)

THE VERDICT(29/08/13)

Whether NPP or NDC

Ghanaian we`ll always be

Many have come and gone

Lot yet to be born

We are too heterogeneously united

to become foes over what The Nine decided

Let`s hold our contempt

and for our mother`s sake accept

For the Five letter to manifest

Even those on both sides of the debate

were classmates and roommates

After all proceedings

they chatter like siblings

As you read THINK !

This is my petition

                                                 Fahd Mahama
@fahd_mahama
https://www.facebook.com/FahD.maHamA

BACK - TO - LONDON

BACK TO LONDON

I came to Ghana when I was 11 years old. Brought down by my father to continue my education. I traded the accent with Auntie Kande`s Tuo Zaafi and Auntie Diko`s waakye. In London, I overheard my dad telling my British mom(she`s black) that he wants me to be a tough guy. "When he stays in Ghana for a while, he will appreciate the other side of life" I heard him speaking. I had been in this African country for 7 years now.  finished JHS and SHS with very good grades.

When I started schooling, I was very much frustrated with the standard of education here. I was not sent to any of the dada-bee schools in town but rather a cyto in the prominent of all slums in the city; Nima. that is were I stayed with my grandmother. My father was born here but had been living in London for 15 years now. He`s the only son of his parents and his father,my grand-father had died when he was a teenager, school was very boring. My pocket-money was one tenth of what I spent in London. 

I realized that most pupils, especially the males had enough to spend, far more than I can. They could buy what they want to eat, drink, and wear. Hardly will anyone of them talk with me about future career or profession. They considered their financial situation as a barrier. Up till now I have ambitions of becoming a Writer and a Fashion designer. But the writer in me seems corrupted. But I still love to read. I read about anything I find interesting around me.

After JHS I got into SHS and things got worse. My parents divorced, dad seldom calls, I lost contact with my mother and I was confused. when he calls it was only to say hi and see how my grandmother was fearing. He never called on my phone. Besides, he doesn't have my number. I had managed to get my self a cell phone which i`m about to tell you how.

In JHS, I learned from my friends how to make money fast. It was easy for me because I was very good with the computer than most of them. Every night I will sneak out of the house and go to an internet cafe. I just have to visit a dating site and impersonate myself as a 32 years old lady living in Ghana but was born somewhere in Europe or America. I`ll use pictures of models from their websites. Once the white man falls in love with me I will begin to ask for money for some fictitious reasons. When we had no money to purchase time cards at the cafe, we would go on the road, at traffic points, to clean wind glasses for some coins.

By the time I got into SHS, I could buy myself whatever I wanted to eat, drink and wear. I even payed my fees. 

When my grandmother realized that I had stopped asking her for money, she felt reluctant and never asked how I get to buy all the things I own. She could not have taken me to SHS. My dad sent money only once in a long while until he stopped completely. Her small kola-nuts business was becoming a fiasco. 

Now that I have finished SHS, I am not planning to go to university soon. I have a strong desire to achieve excellence. I want to amass all the money I can and then invest into a profitable business here or find my way back to London. I know very well that it is not a good job.

My friends made me wise if not, smart. growing up in such circumstance was tough for a London boy. I was born with a silver spoon but I lost it.

THIS IS NOT MY STORY. IT IS JUST A FICTION. READ MY BLOGS BECAUSE I WILL COME BACK TO TELL YOU HOW FAR HE HAS REACHED IN HIS QUEST TO GO BACK TO LONDON. Watch Out For Part.....................lol

follow me @fahd_mahama
and on facebook.com/FahD.maHamA

FACEBOOK-PREACHERS

Perhaps when we pass away our timeline would be a reliable source of our autobiography. The kind of personality I present is not that of a "mallam-mallam" and I know that. But that does not mean that I am religiously weak.

I don't remember the last time I posted a sermon on my Timeline but I can remember reading friends` posts in which they tried to preach. A lot of the posts are quotes from books that I have read before or sometimes, something from a website or a Facebook page.

I don't belittle anyone's faith but I just want to be a reminder. From Wikipedia,  

[timeline is a way of displaying a list of events in chronological order, sometimes described as a project artifact. It is typically a graphic design showing a long bar labeled with dates alongside itself and (usually) events labeled on points where they would have happened]

Also, from my amateur Film-making experience, it is an horizontal board on a Video Editing Software that is used to edit videos for Movie or Television. Recorded files are inserted onto the board and the editor decides what you watch first, middle or last.

So we can deduce from these that, a timeline is another form of storytelling. The next time you post something on your timeline, don't forget that you are telling a story ( your story ). Tell your story and not someone`s. When you quote from someone, don't make the words your own. Remember to add references and give credit so that at least, knowledge-seekers can do further research.

Don't try to please anybody but yourself. Facebook-preachers !

follow me @fahd_mahama
and on facebook.com/FahD.maHamA

Just An Expression ( i want to be a writer )

I  WANT  TO  BE  A  WRITER

Apart from what you are reading, there are a lot more I want to write about myself. Not the "my-self" essays i used to write in primary school. Not only about myself but about other people and some people(fictitious) too.
As a juvenile and growing up in a society where there are obviously few motivators, sometimes I feel oblivious about my future.
Especially when I need someone to say to me certain things such as, "is this what you want to do?" "keep it up!" "never give up" or "if there`s anything I can do to support, don`t hesitate to let me know" but not getting anyone to say them. I feel deterred and makes me want to take my pen off the paper and reach for the computer keyboard(sakawa). 

Besides, nothing shames a man but an empty pocket. I cant afford to be an unsuccessful writer and at the same time, successfully empty in the pocket when there`s a good brain. It is either I write for a living or I make a living chatting-online. I don't necessarily intend to write for a living for it is a form of expressing my observations as I sit by the roadside of life and reflecting on the issues of life. I just want to transform reality or imagination to words. By putting pen on paper, I express my joy and get rid of my fears and torments. From my blood veins through the ink onto the paper. I try as much as I can to take my mind from What I Don't Want to What I Want. 

Anytime I pray I pray for wisdom like Solomon or even better. Long life on this earth like Methuselah or even longer. Good health and strength like Samson or even stronger. Also to be meek like The Prophet Mohammed and down to earth like Jesus. When you pray, pray for me too. Pray that I am protected from the evils of life and exalted to the highest peak. When you come across a good writing(book, movie or photography) which is written and/or directed me Fahd Mahama, you should know that you prayed for me and Allah made it possible. so I want to thank you in advance. If you wish me ill-luck, thank you because I can`t do without you.

follow me @ Fahd_Mahama
and on FB/FahdMahama