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Nov 8, 2007 | Editorial

My Encounter With Philomina Kpitinge


Ever heard the song 'Philomina kpitinge' by one of Asomdwekrom's hiplife heavyweights, Tic-Tac? I'm sure you would say yes because his song was heard in every nook and cranny of Asomdwekrom, when it was released in the late 1990s.

Frankly speaking, I did not see any sense in the song then but now I do. I used to ask myself: what is wrong with Philomina Kpitinge's bushy hair-in-armpit when that is the order of the day for 'menuanom' from the 'oui-oui' speaking countries; if you know what I mean.

As the pig told its baby, the piglet, in the popular beast fable that it would 'grow and see' why the mother's 'mouth was long', so have I grown and seen the sense in Tic-Tac's song.

It is not uncommon to see thick and unkempt hair in the armpit of many Asomdwekromanians nowadays. Yes, 'Philomina Kpitinge' it is called. But I had never come into close contact with any until about a week ago.

Wofa, you didn't bother asking why I vowed never to board the 'Kufuor bus again'. Yes, the Metro Mass Transport (MMT), I mean. Well, if you wouldn't ask I would tell you.

When I bought my 'alatsa' automobile about two moons ago, I had the impression that my days of being in tro-tro queues for long hours were over. How wrong I was!

Last Friday, I was cruising in my 'alatsa' when suddenly the engine went dead at Ofankor, a suburb of Nkrankrom. I did all I could to resurrect the engine but to no avail. Not even the efforts of the best auto-mechanic in Ofankor could bring the engine back to life. He tried masking his shame with the following words:

“My broda, your automobile has proven that it is indeed an 'alatsa'.” I was therefore compelled to join other passengers by the roadside after I had left the junk at a nearby fitting shop.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the almighty 'Kufuor bus' came to our rescue. You should have been there to see how we scrambled for the few standing spaces available like a swarm of bees rushing to collect nectar and pollen from flowers.

To say we were packed like sardines in a tin would be an understatement. Wofa, that was when my 'wahala' began.

As you are already aware, most standing passengers in the 'Kufuor bus' raise their hands to hold a support bar in order to maintain their balance.

As fate would have it, I was privileged (or is it unprivileged) to stand beside a 'Philomina Kpitinge'. The stench emanating from her armpit was so unbearable that I turned to the other side to seek comfort.

There too I met another 'Kpitinge' whose hair was more bushy and smelly than the first. It was a perfect definition of the saying: 'Jumping from frying pan to fire.'

Surprisingly, these 'nketesia' were in their provocative - ' am aware' and 'apushkeleke' -dresses. I couldn't help but wonder how their partners in 'mpa' would feel. Perhaps, they too like it the 'Kpitinge' style.

Wofa, I was literally in hell for the 30 minutes that we journeyed from Ofankor to Kubease. Believe it or not, I was hospitalised for 48 hours at Kubease Ayaresabea after my ordeal with the 'Kpitinge nketesia'.

I hope you now understand why I vowed never to board the 'Kufuor bus' again.

Did I hear you say I should rescind my decision? Okay, I would but only on condition that you join me in the crusade to get rid of all 'Philomina Kpitinges' in the system.

Till I see you at Kubease this weekend, I pray that you don't come into contact with any 'Kpitinge abrantie' or 'aketesia' because my encounter with them wasn't pleasant at all.
Bye for now!

By Agya Kwaku Ogboro

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