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.

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