When the ordinances between the African bridge & heaven are violated

If it were my native, I’d call upon the breath of my father who art in his abode. I’d raise my hands to the whims of the winds, & say— “this is your son, in whom you’re well pleased. Let me be.” But this, in this, I cannot seem to re-write what I undoubtedly rephrased years ago. So, when I recall those memories, it’s like it all ended in tears or, maybe, I haven’t yet lived to see the reward of my beginning.

Like divinity has taught us in the holy books, there was an ascension. Whether or not the account was recorded in the East, is what I don’t know. Was there a bridge that connected those of righteous deeds to heaven & those of evil to hell? But I know, it’d be weird to think there was a bridge to climb up there—but, what if there was? Like in Papa’s tales during the cold evenings, how he manages to conjure very touching songs of praise & sometimes, even doom to the antagonists.

There’s this tale he told where he quoted a proverb that, “the one who breeds fowls never lacks eggs.” But now, I’ve broken my eggs trying to climb this African bridge, I guess. As you made it very clear how important it is to take it step by step, & keep the ordinances. & not be in haste—I kept those words, never flaunted them & hoped for someday, heaven, where you are. But today, I write a poem. One which tells us the bridge that connects an African hustle & heaven has ordinances—& I violated them; I broke its oath.

While I write this poem, I wouldn’t mind if I begin with Africa or heaven. All I know is there’s a bridge which is strong, but also, broken—London bridge has fallen down? When I climb & begin to feel like giving up, I find no spot to hook my eyes & so, I descend. & when I descend, I take the short root & gain ascendancy. But, the bridge isn’t a clear path to heaven. Or, maybe, I’m climbing on to nothing but just air; & missing the steps. If I’m not missing, then why do heaven’s gate keeper send me back? For anything, I thought I had heaps of eggs ready to be delivered to our nation—but, all are burst! One remains—the toil to hell. & when you come back to me, don’t tell me that’s what happens when the ordinances between the African bridge & heaven are violated.


blessed are the steadfast;
they shall be given a free pass to heaven—with no african bridge.

now. crawled if i could
i walked if i could. even danced & hopped.
in my own way,
i tried to take a step further, beyond these clouds
i climb with care. as there was humour
nothing but just air.

air that carries you nowhere
in those tales, father told them
with a chorus in the cold of our day
everlasting & sweet—
the golden bridge of ours has proven its real self
& maybe, i haven’t violated.

or,
i haven’t yet seen the reward of my beginning.
so i’ll pray & pray. till there’s mercy
this is your son, in whom you’re well pleased.
& then, i’ll be.

Issue 2—Transit—Artmostterrific Publications

Hello Everyone,

As I narrated in my very last literary breakdown—my commitment, consistency and hardwork—off being regular and in content-wise, inconsistent on my blog that there are quite a few submissions I made elsewhere and committed to blog about them all when they’re finally published.

The wait is over! The much awaited Issue 2Transit—is live! And guess what, I’m featured in there! I’m so thrilled to announce the publication of two poems of mine in the 2nd Issue of the Artmostterrific.

Many thanks to Aremu Adebisi (Antagonist) & his team for accepting “When you reap what you sow, it’s accounted as faithfully yours” & “the voice that crawled under my left breast has left me in wonder,” and for putting such a great piece of work (Prose, Poem & Artwork) from undergrads all over the continent together, it’s a massive win for Africa & the world!

I’m recognized under the pseudonym—Kwabena Benyin—please, feel free to dive in & read me here.

Also, you get the opportunity to connect with about 29 pieces, from 29 incredible & brilliant writers all over the continent. You must really hop in there!

Thanks for the support & the check-ins.❤️

:‑X

on: Harry Odamtten’s “Dode Akabi: A Reexamination of the Oral and Textual Narrative of a”Wicked” female King.”

hey , People!!!

took a glance this morning through ‘the article’ : Harry Odamtten’s “Dode Akabi: A Reexamination of the Oral and Textual
Narrative of a “Wicked” Female King.”

Akaabi, who historical facts recalls to be the first female monarch of the Ga people , a coast-dwelling people in Ghana and the founders of Ghana’s capital city , Accra . Technically , Akaabi is also the only woman to have led a major ethnic group in the Gold Coast that became Ghana .

a thing which is even more interestingly noting is , while it is , till date , recorded that she was not even Ga by birth , Akaabi manly became the first non-Ga ruler of the Ga state . she was a princess of the Awutu , a southern people who trace their heritage to the Guan , the earliest known people to settle in the geographical area now called Ghana .

other striking inputs this article emphasizes is that , it is quite plausible that the narrative about Akaabi is guided by anti-woman motivations when the qualities she exhibited would have been described in positive terms of men .

and what is mostly not said is that Akaabi also led the Ga into battles and won . some historians credit her with certain territories secured in the early 16th century by the Ga .

This critical social history thus throws light on the evolution of the
place of women in Ga politics, as well as female identity, power, and rights
of succession within an acknowledged patrilineal society. It shows the un-
fortunate fate of Akabi, who, prompted by her heritage, marriage, maternal
instincts, and sheer force of personality, thrust herself into the leadership of
a patrilineal Ga society. Ga men, perhaps insulted by Akabi’s tenacity and
alleged “masculinity,” not only buried her alive, but also covered up her
redemptive qualities, choosing only to remember her as a wicked woman.
In Ga cosmology, Akabi’s burial is explained as a form of musu kpamo,
whereby a collective sacrifice is made to balance or restore the moral order.99
The moral order that was under restoration was likely the matter of male
boundaries that Akabi had supposedly trespassed.

you & all who’s into reading long articles (academic works) , & has access to Project Muse , you may want to explore too . or ,

alternatively reach out to me and i’ll share the .pdf with you .

how a womb breaks into triple laughter

—a birth trilogy

when the first birth was called for summon
there was a solemn dirge crawling into earth.

the collision amongst blessed occupants;
hear the volumes of fracture
from a shameful womb.

hearts, twisted to pounce out in yellow blood.
then, all of a sudden, few maternal strengths—

swimming like an oligo-worm,
across the paths where are sighs meet.

the second birth reclaimed succession of the first.

now. solemn dirges swallowed in the fullness of earth.
a clash between the oligo head & the white shell—

we refuse to call it a kiss. because,
a shell leaves a worm’s tail to wallow in the mire;
revealing delicate secrets of one side.

blowing whims of sacred laughter. but, unheard.
heaven’s written this tale for the last rains.

on the third. there were ripples of laughter.

oligo surfaced with form & without void
a lineage. where a womb’s curse is uttered with hallelujah choruses.

this time, a womb sings laughter in triplets;

the first unsung, the second unheard,
—& the third breaks into a triple laughter.

Whew, Heyyy!!!

You might find yourself reading this very post right now and actually, absolutely stunned—because you must’ve missed the magical content produced in the last three or so months on this blog. If you’ve been following this blog and kept anticipating good things from me, well, I must say I salute you for keeping yourself glued over here even when I took this unexpected break. Your loyalty is really appreciated, Lovelies!

There’s a very specific reason I took this break off and there’s actually been so much that has transpired during this my silent phase, which I’d so much want to unveil to y’all my special followers, since it might somehow interest you one way or the other to also try, maybe.

Why the silence?

Since I started my journey in blogging seriously, I’ve always kept content posted on this very blog as and when necessary. My very good friend, Lia admonished me, that I share my experience with my followers when I explained to her why I lately haven’t been consistent on my blog and the reason for my short turn and I’m not holding back on that, because I figured this might be of some help to you. I took a turn away from my blog to submit for publications such as Anthologies, Issues, Mags etc. This particular turn has been really fruitful and has taught me so many things that I needed in my writing journey. I must say the experience I have gained during this short period is very transforming, and I appreciate the writing community and friends on Twitter especially so much for that!

My writing and submissions have been consistent and inconsistent at the same time. Because, I’d never tasted of how your work, as a writer, when it’s been rejected, felt like. Or, what receiving an acceptance email felt like. When rejections came in, before, I had no idea the kind of discomfort and pain one has to go through for such an experience. Yeah, because, having the courage to send your work out means that you trust your work to be so good that it being rejected wasn’t a part of what you would’ve projected. The kind of disappointment and inconvenience that this issue brings is a whole madness on it’s own. I had sometimes gotten so bored at those rejection emails that I decided not to send any work out again; that’s where the inconsistency in my writing comes to play.

But, after giving myself time to digest the feedback, I’m able to turn my mediocre work into a masterpiece, which I’m so thankful for. Sometimes, I’d spend more time editing rather than just hurrying to complete and submit them–it was in the editing process that I most at times, realized some of the works weren’t thoroughly edited to my satisfaction. Now, I’ve found out that my favourite thing about writing is the editing process. I’d rather make the draft into a masterpiece than just send any partly edited work out there. It’s either “edited” or “don’t send at all!” During editing, I’m very particular about making each line, syntax, grammar, internal consistencies, factual accuracy, punctuation and spelling sound. I’ve also noticed I develop a fresh pair of eyes to review my works each time I turn back to it—that gives me the kind of flow, smoothness and all the dexterity I need in my writing. I’m still working on it to this day, anyway! This should be a thing of quite lasting note to those of you who’ll also want to verge on this journey, never ever stop editing your works, especially when it’s rejected from a thing!

Now, I’ve found out that my favourite thing about writing is the editing process. I’d rather make the draft into a masterpiece than just send any partly edited work out there. It’s either “edited” or “don’t send at all!” During editing, I’m very particular about making each line, syntax, grammar, internal consistencies, factual accuracy, punctuation and spelling sound. I’ve also noticed I develop a fresh pair of eyes to review my works each time I turn back to it—that gives me the kind of flow, smoothness and all the dexterity I need in my writing.

On days when my works are accepted, I smile at those edifying acceptance emails because the sense of fulfilment is so astonishing and yet, deserving. The cheer that lingers on my face alone is so big, wide that it could cover the width and breadth of the sea (LOL). After, sometimes, there’s also the need to work with the publisher’s editor and it’s all a thrilling experience because it was my first time. I submitted the most this year and the past year, been rejected and disappointed the most yet I still keep submitting (That’s a plus for me you know … I deserve the accolades, yesss!). Even as it’s a painstaking process, I know it’s a good habit. So, I’ll just keep it going, and never stop. Be sure to write all the bad poems & essays if every draft is a step closer to a good one. I’ll keep writing and not wait for permissions or when a thing is opened for submissions because in that, I’m finding my voice and discovering my style.

Even as it’s a painstaking process, I know it’s a good habit. So, I’ll just keep it going, and never stop. Be sure to write all the bad poems & essays if every draft is a step closer to a good one. I’ll keep writing and not wait for permissions or when a thing is opened for submissions because in that, I’m finding my voice and discovering my style.

Anticipate what?

I’m actually grateful for everyone who’s checked in to see whether there were new contents posted here. Behind the scenes, as already explained, I’ve been the busiest working back and forth in the literary space.

My hopes are that you may have stumbled upon some of my works published elsewhere in some spaces. Better still, I’ve made a whole lot of submissions ranging from genres such as poetry to poetry essays. I have one poem, “Of colour, not of myrrh—when a body’s eye is ear & not of only eye” published on the Gen Writers Club issue publication.

Also, my poem, “The Morning that Lied” is forthcoming in the Contemporary Ghanaian Writers Series’ (CGWS) “Balance” anthology. My poem “When you reap what you sow, it’s accounted as faithfully yours” is also forthcoming in “Issue 2” of the Artmostterrific publication. There’s a poem , “How a womb breaks into triple laughter” also forthcoming in the ASSmag Debut volume publication. In the ANKH December publication, I have two (2) poems, “when you were a child, but you grew into this” and “I’m told of a rapture; how it did happen” forthcoming.

Since these are not yet published I’ll be sure to notify you when they’re finally published so you guys check them out. There are some few submissions which haven’t reached their response time yet, hopefully they’d also be accepted and published so I can blog about them on here (So, wish me luck!).

Now, apart from those works I submitted to a thing, I’ve a few which I wrote and would be posting them here as time goes. Keep yourself checked in as you’ve always done. 😉 So you see, your boy’s been at it all this while!

More so, there are other types of genres I’ve recently been considering to write on. I’d so much make it known to you y’all as and when I’m well certain of it, LOL. But welp, as you’ve already known, posting will now be consistent—because there are a lot more works to share to the world. So yesss, Cheers!

But until then, a [late] happy new year to you, & hoping to read all your wonderful works too soon. :‑X

Happy Reading,

Benyin

Grown

i liked this short story so much , and hope that you enjoy it too!

this story portrays the state of possible “not sane” psych-space , trauma that even a person could go through . this is quite prevalent in our setting . it’s intriguing , and should be of much interest to you , and especially if you’re in some parts of Africa .

The mental health of young African boys is suppressed and slaved away. Parents, friends, society diminish the emotions and pain of our men.

Grown

the elegy

it’s a solemn trumpeting in the clouds

songs absent of the current waves around. gone are the deepest sorrows of a child

with an elegy condoned without a bit of apathy, her heartbeat beholds the echoes of a love-deed,

a child who mourns like an adult in uniformity

—taking a sole lead of the artful elegy

crafting and playing aloud in the hollows of a “fontomfrom”

at a capacity able to consume the native tongues; of our drum

a night perceived bright away with no wonder

one considered a myth in the diaries of the famous Aminata

sitting ajar in a vengeful feast—

with no amount of sleets to surrender a please

an absurd expense in an artful pattern

of which I refuse to take; an ease

beautiful choruses blown into flutes; let ’em

an unusual array in a churn devoid of a Salem

in accordance to the abyss of a natural elegy;

plaited on an artistic day

50 Facts About Me

1. My full name is Emmanuel Kwabena Bennin. Some part of me wouldn’t want you to know the Kwabena part of me, I don’t know why.

2. Also, almost everybody has a problem pronouncing & spelling Bennin right. A lot.

3. My illusioned younger self prefers being called Benyin, because it feels more classy.

4. I have some big eyes too.

5. I had a natural tattoo, like a writing, around my right elbow which I undermined.

6. It looked like it was written with a part of my skin because you could feel it tangibly.

7. It was very thick that It could be read at my little age.

8. Even though I recall it read like a Japanese accent at my younger age, it keeps fading. Now, I only see marks like shapes of polygons. It pains me I didn’t pay attention to those words & are vanishing.

9. I have been using powder since my childhood.

10. I have one hatred self. I get pissed the most, but I laugh about anything & everything. All the time.

11. My best friend Felicia says it’s ego. But I say it’s an art, because I do it uniquely. Everything about me is an art, anyway.

12. Feli is some lady bi err. Lol.

13. I miss her so much though. It still shocks me we’ve never hugged.

14. I am introverted.

15. I am one reserved being, but not quiet. You’ll get the distinction when you’ve known me enough.

16. I found love in my pen & I’ve been writing ever since.

17. Working on a chapbook which I hope to have published next year. Stay close, okay?

18. I have a favourite poem. & it’s the “The Fulani Creation Story.” Author unknown.

19. Talk of novels, lol … hard to say. But I like “The Count of Monte Cristo” by Alexandre Dumas.

20. My most embarrassing moment has to be the day I was chosen to be a quiz master at my church in high school. Man overly messed up like …

21. I love social media too. Twitter is my favourite, even though too sarcastic & sometimes more violent these days.

22. Apparently, I’m a refuse-to-grow-person; I look younger than my age. And everyone’s first guess would be an age lesser than my current age.

23. But hey, I’m hot & sweet😉

24. I would love to, one day, visit Paris to explore wonderful arts.

25. I love fashion. But I hate to be the center of attention in crowd so I’ll rather keep it undertone & simple, but neatest to the possible utmost difference.

26. I have a small nuclear family; a father, a mother, a sister and a brother.

27. I love music too.

28. I have been through the whole “I only listen to Gospel music” phase. Still in the phase but I’m “allow me to be more liberal” alot now. lol.

29. I love Jidenna’s “Bambi” , it’s key player in every part of my writing.

30. It’s playing now. & on repeat.

31. I still have dreams of marrying Annalise Keating of the “HTGAWM” series.

32. Will be watching again after my current series.

33. Yes, I love series. It’s my thing.

34. I’m still crushing on Deloris Frimpong. Won’t add any popular name, leave you to wonder. If you get it, fine.

35. For my primary, I went to, Kings and Queens International School, Adabraka-Lapaz, continued at Sunflower International School, North-Kaneshie & completed in Young Souls International School, Ablekuma-Agape after we relocated from Darkuman.

36. I was the assistant boy’s prefect.

37. I was very funny those days. I used to be jovial a lot. With that classy nickname.

38. Went through two high schools at different times . A year at Suhum Senior High Technical & completed a three year cycle at Presbyterian Senior High School, Begoro(wouldn’t want to talk about both) . I now study in Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST) reading Natural Resources Management, BSc.

39. I am a strong proponent of the #BLM campaign

40. But now, it’s saddening to hear some “blacks” saying they’re different from Africans & we are not like them. Sad to know isn’t it?

41. Yeah, so my point (39) is now, what it is.

42. 4×8 = 32 , sounds so much like a Tuesday to me.

43. Nothing. I thought it deserves a stand-alone point.

44. I have some alter agos. Rebekah Mikaelson of Originals, Michaela Pratt of HTGAWM, and Fernando Sucre of Prison Break.

45. My love goes with poetry books. You can gift me one, BTW.

46. Still working on my self-esteem issues. Really hard for me sometimes. Phew.

47. I did this specially because my birthday is on the 26th of this month. You should gift me a Ghanaian poetry book.

48. Low-key, I don’t want a lot of people to know of my birthday.

49. The other side of me wants to break the internet, so you guys put your favourite picture of me with the hashtag, #HappyBirthdayBenyin

50. Please guys. Share the word. Okay?😘


Continue reading “50 Facts About Me”

Who is Benyin?

Who is Benyin?
Benyin is the ever-young one,
he rubs love in tenderness
Magnificent in his good thoughts
His smiles are weaved in the arms of hearts
Benyin’s teeth spits out wells of happys and kinds

//

Who is Benyin?
Benyin is bright as a morning star
In the noon he says he’s splendorous in sorrows
But at nights he waits for the calm in patience
He says he is best;
because he is excellent in himself

///

Who is Benyin?
Benyin with meek voice, will give you tickles
When he sings, the wind and breeze submit in all glory
He stems a well collected conducts and character
In him is all roots of humbleness

/V

Who is Benyin?
Benyin’s has big eyes which glows
as one nourished in an angel’s calabash
He is nurtured, well comported
He is interesting—
he will caress your laughter in ripples
this is Benyin

Start a Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started
%d bloggers like this: