Third Decade Joojo is at Rutgers. Engineering. His parents’ choice, following in his father’s footsteps. Fancy them being asked by a nosy Ghanaian relative, “so, what does your son do?” And his parents, their hands in their pockets, their faces laced with smug smiles, as they slide the cool word out, “ENGI-NEER-ING.” Their son is an engineer in America. At least they didn’t bring him out here to count high rise buildings, piercings and tattoos all over his body. The only snag is, Joojo’s demeanor, the connection he feels, is not for machines. It would be a shame to waste all that love, calmness and empathy on engines. The connection he feels is for people. So eventually, it is psychology that attracts him. A fitting profession. Rutgers. Filled with sweet memories of showing his bosom friends, Yaw and Ed, the art of sneaking big loaves of Ghana bread into the library. Lest we forget his stint with Afrocentrism. Dashikis, beads on neck and wrists, his every word laced with Africa this, Africa that. Hey there! True son of the soil! Yes, his great great grandfather, Dr. Alexander Oguntola Sapara, was a well known Yoruba Nigerian doctor. But bro! slow down kakra, it is getting scary. He gets past that stage. Whew! Thank God!! Fourth Decade Sitting down in a home in Accra, Ghana, waiting for his bride to be outdoored, ably flanked by Asikule, Yaw and Ed, who have flown all the way from the U.S, to support him, and are sitting with his family in the row directly behind him, his heart beats slightly. Hewatches as the gobetween, a witty middle-aged aunty, dances to the front and ushers in a young lady, her head and face, covered with an African print cloth. The go-between shouting the praises of the young girl. She removes the cloth from the girl’s head to reveal her full face, then she asks him, “is this beautiful damsel your bride?” He smiles and shakes his head. “No she isn’t,” he replies. The go between sticks her neck out in mock surprise, and exclaims, “you 9 The Birthday Journal
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