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'Let her cry well'

Mawuli Zogbenu 1212.jpeg Mawuli Zogbenu is the author

Sat, 19 Nov 2022 Source: Mawuli Zogbenu

Nowadays when I am not feeling well small norrr, I start deleting some whatsapp messages, videos and images from my phone. Sometimes too, I block some ‘sensitive and important contacts. I do so because anything can happen.

Strangely many wives manage to get the passwords to our phones especially when the men are ‘gone too soon’.

That reminds me of the ghost of that SA pastor who committed suicide some years back bcos of a wrong post to his church congregation wassap group. He was not smart koraaa oo. If I were him, the moment I realized I have wrongly sent that post, I would have followed it up with this message as if referring to someone else: ‘Forwarded as received…members of my congregation, I said it oo that the end times are near.

This is what a pastor in another church outside SA has mistakenly sent to me oo. Look at the evidence’. How on earth can a so-called man of God do this?’I am sure everybody would believe me! After all, all things being equal, nobody apart from his wife has seen the ‘super image’ he mistakenly forwarded to the group.

Why commit suicide over this? Praise the Lord! Haaaaaaaaaaaaa! World Cup is here o and from next week, you would hear from me regarding the names of some of the players. Ei, is Mbap3 playing this time round? What about Company? How can you give birth to someone and call him ‘Mbap3 and ‘Company’? Anyway, you don’t judge other people’s culture when you are outside their culture’!

I have observed at the funerals of many men whose wives, now widows don’t seem to be in grief. What could be the problem? I asked myself many times until I attended a funeral at Akpami last Saturday.

The widow danced more than everyone else. Mourners watched in awe. Even the hired criers didn’t understand what was going on. Later the widow asked for Champaign and fufu with goat light soup.

The funeral brochure (the mother of all plagiarized works) was the source. She refused to read that one when it was her turn to read the tribute. Typically such tributes are read on behalf of widows; they are too grieved to read. But this one di333, she offered to read it herself. She was very happy instead of crying.

Our wives forgive us oooooo, hmmmm. In her unscripted tribute she went like:

‘My dear husband, Korku, you have been a wonderful alontey. My world was initially shattered when you got involved in that terrible accident at Nkawkaw and died on the spot.’ (At this point, families of the deceased tried to prevent her from continuing but hey, this woman has muscles).

She continued ‘when you died, I almost died too as a result of the shock but a few days later I realized how stupid I would have been if I had died too. Fellow mourners, my late husband will by all means go to hell. He was everything to me as much as I was everything to him, I thought.

He took good care of the children, paid their school fees and sent them to church every Sunday.

He provided everything. He was a very caring person (Of course the most caring husbands enjoy ‘sweet’ things, secretly).

‘Now to my late husband, Korku, if I knew all of these before you lying in state here as the purest man that ever lived, I am sure I would have ‘finished’ you myself and damn the consequences. You cheated on me many times without me knowing. I am glad you are dead and gone. To God be the glory.

Who is Akua Camboo? Who is Jennifer Indomi? Who is Amina GPAHA? Who is Doris Polis HQ? Who is Ama Ajiadon? Who is Klenam Earring? None annoys me more than Amavi Brezia.

To fellow mourners, I was going through my late husband’s phone so I could send invitations to some of his friends on wassap and this is where I discovered ‘poison’ in fact knives! Korku was very open with me. I had the password to everything of his without him knowing.

The password to his laptop was the same for his ATM and mobile money accounts. He was the forgetful type so he did so in order not to mix up numbers the same way I thought he could not mix up women’.

With some military precision, I used his password **** and entered his mobile phone and the same opened his wassap line. I nearly fainted! The things I saw er! So you reader, you expect her to have seen Mills and Boon er? She saw what she wanted to see though never desired to see. Curiosity kills the alontey.

Wassap, let’s go:

Korku: Sweetness Baby, how I wish you were in my arms to give me the warmth my wife never gives me at home:

Amavi Brezia: Awwwww Honey. I have not been feeling too well especially after that ‘expulsion’ of that ‘accident’.

Korku: I am sorry Baby, it is my fault. If I had frustrated that my wife to leave, we would have kept that baby and you’d have moved in to join me. You know you are the candle in my dumsor and the condensed mrik in my liptin. Don’t worry; I will frustrate Shiela till she packs out.

Amavi Brezia: Awwwwww! Honey, please I want to take a shower and come back. Please give me a few minutes.

Korku: Ok, my Luv. I wish to call you but Okpana is around and she might hear the conversation. So I will drive out and call from the nearest public toilet. Will 10 minutes be ok to call instead of wassaping?

Amavi Brezia: Honey I really don’t have the energy to talk; I prefer we chat when I return from the bathroom.

Korku: I am ok except that I would have loved to hear your ‘tininiiiii’ voice that I miss so much.

Amavi Brezia: Ok, my Luv. I will be back in a moment. Honey, the sytotek is too strong. I nearly died oo. My groin and abdomen are paining me. Hmmm!

Korku: Oh naaaaa! God forbid. You can’t die. Shiela must die first and then I bring you home to enjoy the true world of ecstasy in marriage.

Amavi Brezia: ??????????

Korku: Hello. Are you there? Babyyyyyyyyy, talk to me. Ok I guess you off to the bathroom. Pls get back to me asap ok. Luv you.mwaaaa!

Here, the widow couldn’t continue reading the wassap messages again bcos she foresaw more ‘missiles’ in the trail of messages.

Though she wanted to discontinue, out of further curiosity, something prompted her to continue reading messages from some others including messages from Jennifer Indomi. She read only a few lines from Jennifer Indomi and hmmmm:

Jenniffer Indomi: ‘Honey K, why is it that you no longer desire me as much as you do? Or is your wife giving you what she used to deny you? Or K, have you found another lover? Anyway, my daughter will resume next week and the termly fee is only GHC2,230.00 for KG 2.

Korku: Oh my dear. Don’t worry. I dey for you. Except that I have been busy of late. Church programmes and board meetings here and there.

Jenniffer Indomi: Ok dear. So what are you doing about the school fees? Tell me something, Luv. They are resuming next week oo.

Korku: No problem. I will be travelling to Nkawkaw tomorrow and when I return, I will give you the money but no problem at all. I hope GHC1,500 will be ok so you can top up.

Jenniffer Indomi: Honey Combo Biwi, please make it GHC2,000.

Korku: ei wo nunu. Ok. Ihu. I will try

Jenniffer Indomi : Okay Luv. You are the best. When am I seeing you? When you come back from Nkawkaw, I want to ‘see you’ apart from the money. I miss that ‘thing’ paaa. Shame wai! Lol!

Korku: No p. Shiela is even out of town so, we would see about that!

Sister stubborn reader Adoma, tell me the truth, if you were the wife, now widow (God forbid), what would your tribute to your late husband, Korku sound like? Stop looking at my face la ah! Am I the late husband? Tsoooo!

As for the pictures and videos in the photo gallery of Korku’s phone, a national archive would have been jealous! These are pictures and videos your mother-in-law or even your own mother will be shy to watch! Chai!

Men, please the ‘DELETE’ key is there for a purpose. I don’t blame you oo; some messages are too sweet to be deleted. No be so? Hahahahaha!

Two useless lessons to learn from the lies above:

1. Wives, please give us the ‘thing’ more frequently even inside the kitchen.

2. Men, DELETE and I mean delete bcos you can never tell when you will drop… dead! Good evening afternoon!

Make yourself happy always by yourself o, yoo!

Columnist: Mawuli Zogbenu