Book Review: Treasured Friends By Ann Hibbard

Women all over the world suffer myriads of stereotypes and often these mostly unfounded mental conceptions tend to be more pronounced in the hinterlands where education is deficient. One such seemingly entrenched stereotypical conception is that women are inherently quarrelsome, so much so that, we tend to view feuds between women as completely ordinary and hence downplay the many possible adverse consequences of such bitter disputes because we somewhat unconsciously deem them normative.

However true or otherwise the above may be, I am of the opinion that women generally make better friends than men based on my personal unscientific observation and Ann Hibbard in her book Treasured Friends corroborated my hunch, though her work is by no means a comparative study/analysis of the sustainability of friendship among the two sexes.

In Treasured Friends, the author marshals a wealth of information from her personal stories and the testimonies of numerous other women she has encountered from her many speaking engagements to make a solid case for building intimate friendships.

She begins the book by sampling the views of some of the women on what they considered true friendship noting among other things that, “some use the term friend loosely to mean anything from acquaintances to lifelong soul mates.” As varied as the views were, one of the most recurrent themes in their responses was that true friendship teaches us to love. Ann beautifully encapsulates it thus, “Love is learned in the crucible of human relationships: a place where we bind each other’s wounds, clothe each other with humor, nourish each other with encouragement and quench each other’s thirst for acceptance and companionship.”

Commencing every chapter with a catchy and concise quote, Ann explores key ingredients like trust, love, acceptance, kindness, respect, etc that make for a healthy and intimate friendship yet in a manner that is not all niceties. Like in every human relationship, this book attempts to capture every aspect of true friendship, warts-and-all, thus giving it a realistic appeal. For instance, she advises that “anyone can say what we want to hear. A true friend tells us what we need to hear. Yet every word is prompted by love.” She also warns against parasitic friendships and suggests ways to cut off such ones observing that it is “better to go deep with a few than to have superficial relationships with many” especially “when continuing in a friendship necessitates participation in wrong behavior.”

As beautifully and as well written as this book may be, I strongly suspect that not many men will find it appealing because like me, they may think it too feminine. Even though men will lose nothing for reading it but rather stand to glean some invaluable lessons from an exclusively feminine perspective to better their own relationships, the book, right from the cover page through to the blurb at the back of the book and the numerous examples and stories in between all told in very flowery language seem to be skewed toward only female readers and probably purposely so. This in my opinion does not take anything away from the book but could probably count for one of its strengths in addition to it being strongly founded on biblical principles and its easy readability.

In the end, I think Ann Hibbard does a great job in her treatment of this topic and is timely piece for our Technological Age where relationships are built on social media behind the safety of our computer screens, making us probably more isolated than ever. 

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and I recommend it to all ladies especially those who are keen on building intimate friendships. I am willing to lend my copy to any of my lady friends who are interested to give it a read. Just holler at me!

MY EASTER MEMOIRS

I grew up in a good Christian home where every year, two very important events marked the highlights of all activities on the calendar namely, Christmas and Easter. Christmas is usually the most anticipated time of the year and it is always marked with cheerful exchange of gifts amidst lots of merriment and joyous celebrations. This is probably due to the universal acceptance that the season enjoys as it typically tends to be a period of brisk economic activities when traders sought to maximize profits.

For some people, Christmas is simply a cozy holiday season when one sits back to take stock of the year’s activities and for others it marks the culmination of the successes chocked during the entire year and thus a good time to be grateful and to be spent  with the family. The story of Easter, however, is not quite the same.

Easter has traditionally been a somber period. It doesn’t typically enjoy the same exuberance with which Christmas is embraced yet the reason for this seemingly lackadaisical reception may not be so obvious.

Could it be that Christians have successfully maintained the season’s core purpose of serving as a memorial for the agony of their risen Savior and hence its somber nature? Is it because the period is so inherently associated with suffering and death, which are by no stretch of the imagination a merry affair? Or it may probably be due to its muddled pagan origins which detractors trumpet without fail during the season thus dampening the otherwise celebrant moods of many while making some lose faith in the whole celebrations altogether.

I remember I used to see people (usually elderly women) adorned in funeral cloth with very mournful countenance – in fact, some do even wail disconsolately – in certain mainline churches especially on the Good Friday. It makes one wonder, is it some sort of a cruel irony that this day is tagged “good” when the prevailing mood on the day is palpable sadness? Or is it that the true essence of the day is lost or probably misplaced?

I can surmise then that the melancholic milieu of Easter festivities is culpable for its seemingly poor reception because it paints a picture too gloomy for many to readily embrace. Ours is a generation in pursuit of happiness and lofty dreams thus we are very intolerant of any negativity that we perceive could mar our pollyannaish aspirations. So at worst we reject outrightly anything that threatens our happiness and at best resort to rebranding or undergoing a total makeover that appropriately suits our jolly taste.

Is it any wonder then that in Ghana today, Easter is synonymous with joyous festivities in Kwahu? It used to be that in the period nearing Easter celebrations, most ads on TV and radio were about upcoming church conventions and various outreach missions but that is fast changing and giving way to more modern trends. Thus, it is not uncommon to hear ads about paragliding that promises a thrill of a lifetime or those other popular ones in the line of “Easter Jam At Kwahu Featuring Sarkodie and Kojo Antwi…” among others.

Is this new trend good? Well, that will depend on who you ask. For the savvy business man or event organizer, this is just another golden opportunity to rake in large profits. For the insatiable hedonist, it’s just one more reason to party! For the Minister of Tourism, it’s a great time to showcase to the rest of the world the best the country has to offer in order to attract more tourists and investors. For the priest, it is just one more reason to bemoan the adulteration of an otherwise sacred Christian ritual through unholy worldly influences whereas for the zealous young Christian, it’s a good opportunity to intensify evangelistic efforts to bring more lost souls into their fold. I guess it’s all a matter of perspective.

In the end though, Easter like any other period, is a good time for Christians to ponder the costly sacrifice of their beloved Saviour that purchased their redemption. Whether you are going to mark this period with intense fasting and prayers or in a pensive Sabbatarian mood or as a jolly good time with family and close friends, do it all to the glory of God with the Christ crucified as your sole focus!

Happy Easter to all…

SDG!

Book Review: Rich Dad's CASHFLOW Quadrant by Robert T. Kiyosaki

Anyone who is familiar with my reading interests may very well know that motivational book and tapes aren’t my passion. This is because I’m convinced they achieve no useful purpose other than giving people what I term a ‘feel good’ effect. A friend once aptly captured in my view what best represents what these motivational speakers do saying they are just selling hope – and a false hope at that – to a desperate people. So you can imagine my surprise when this same friend strongly recommended I read a book by an author I’ve always perceived a motivational speaker. Ye the conviction with which my friend spoke and the evidence of the benefits he’d been reaping by applying the lessons he’d learned from the author was compelling indeed so I decided to take him at his word to read the book and boy, what an insightful read it’s been!

Rich Dad’s Cashflow Quadrant, the sequel to Robert T. Kiyosaki’s best seller Rich Dad Poor Dad, is my second encounter with the author having read the first in the series sometime in the past while I was still in school. The book to my surprise didn’t fit my preconceived notion of a typical motivational book as it was very realistic in tone and down-to-earth in its practicability.

The author takes time to introduce the reader to the four parts of the cashflow quadrant i.e. E for Employee and S for Self-Employed on the left side of the quadrant with B for Business Owner and I for Investor on the right side while expounding on the pros and cons of each part. Though he doesn’t quite come clear on which part of the quadrant is best (as he assures the reader that no part is without its risks and gains), it wasn’t difficult to deduce that he favored the right side of the quadrant over the left side and even on the right side, the author favored the I over the B. Here, I often felt the author was playing fast and loose with his analysis and frustratingly so. I also found certain portions of the book to be needlessly repetitive almost to the point of being boring.

However, unlike your typical motivational book where readers are psychologically induced into a transient optimistic mood with the aim of jolting readers to action (often prematurely), the author advocates taking what he calls “baby steps” instead of giant leaps when venturing into a new quadrant. He underscored the importance of extensive and continuous education and knowledge acquisition with adequate experience because certain rules that may have been effective in one quadrant may prove ineffectual to one’s loss in another quadrant.

The author also shares many pithy quotes from his Rich Dad urging what may very well be unorthodox advice among motivational speakers such as “be prepared to be disappointed” because “only fools expect everything to go the way they want.” He observes that “just as we learn from our mistakes, we gain character from our disappointments” and that inevitably, “losing is part of winning.”

The crux of the whole book for me was succinctly expressed under the section he sub-titled BE˃DO˃HAVE where he teaches readers to spend more time acquiring the right attitude required to achieve the desired end instead of hastily seeking a shortcut by doing what one thinks will achieve a desired end. The end result of such impulsive action he noted is usually a burnout causing one to abandon one’s dreams even before one has truly started.

Cashflow Quadrant was a real eye-opener and I recommend it to all especially the financially naïve and for new business owners. May be it’s time I heeded the advice of the author to “mind my own business.” 

Chale What's Your Guy Name

I recently visited a friend at his office, only to serendipitously bump into an AMOSA who was my friend’s colleague. This chance encounter drum home the trite remark that “it’s a small world” we live in. We exchanged pleasantries and carried on with a hearty chitchat. During our chat I realized that I did not remember his name. And so I did what I knew how to do best: I feigned knowledge of his name, while trying hard to recollect, yet engaging him with a phony smile. Halfway through the conversation, I mustered the courage to confess my ignorance. He just smiled knowingly and told me his name. I sheepishly exclaimed “Ah yes!” as though I was at the edge of recollection. Thankfully, this little gaffe did not dampen our chitchat till I took my leave.

Picture |Courtesy Yujin Evans

On my way back home, I tried to figure out why I generally found it a bit more difficult to recollect the names of my mates from Senior High School as compared to those from my Junior High School. The most obvious reason was that, I spent much longer time with my mates from JHS than I did my SHS mates since most of them were the same people I attended primary school with. Thus typically, I tend to remember and mention their names in full whenever I bump into any of them. Secondly, there were fewer of us in JHS than in SHS since we tended to have smaller class sizes. In JHS, the general population of the school was not very large so it was not a very difficult task getting to know almost everybody in the school. The third reason which I also thought it most fascinating was the prevalent usage of nicknames in SHS which incident was almost non-existent in JHS.

Sometimes referred to as ‘guy-name’ or ‘nicki’, the use of nicknames in SHS was commonplace and oftentimes preferable even to one’s proper name and they came in great assortments ranging from such cool ones as Shaker, Phastbone, DKNY, Khemistry, Dada Bee, Commotion, Paul Saul among others to very bizarre ones like Oshɛwoho, Bordordor, Digestive, Anyaa Popo, Odompo, Teefoi, Kontomire, Bazaywa etc and to the downright obscene like Twɛdash.

Some of these nicknames, as ridiculous as they were, often reflected certain aspects of the bearer’s quirky mannerisms or physique. Examples included names like Obaa Yaa, Nana Borrow, Onyintus, Azaa Bobby,Shro, One Muscle, Lil Chicken, Skelebo, Nana Nyankopong among others. Some too were infamous for their notoriety and cruelty. Those that readily come to mind are Pinky, Okonkwo, Wadada, Shanton and Nana King (whose nickname later metamorphosed into Serebour). There were also those people whose proper names were often mistaken to be their nicknames. Classic examples were Batsa and Kaiser.

The teachers were not exempted from this phenomenon. Apart from the obvious motive to ridicule, giving teachers these nicknames had the added advantage of affording students the leeway to jeer at teachers to their hearing, while they remained oblivious to the mockery directed at them. Some of the popular nicknames were Kriss Kross, Alonzy, Tampico, Abeezi, Prokayo, Barbie, Mɛdem, Iron, Aggrey Goat, Aggrey Bouncer, Auntie Faustie and what have you. Even the headmaster and his assistants were not spared. The headmasters usually retained the standard ‘Headzee’ nickname. I hear the immediate past headmaster was called ‘Worfa’. I also recall there was the ever dreaded ‘Payaa’. Some of the teachers were well aware of their nicknames and sometimes affectionately responded to them when students cheered them on during special occasions like the Speech Day celebrations.

So now tell me, with this plethora of nicknames laden with fond memories, is it any wonder then that i am unable to recall the names of my old school mates?

Cry, The Beloved Country By Alan Paton

What’s The Story About?

Stephen Kumalo is a priest in the little village of Ndotsheni where very little happens. One day he receives a letter from another parson, Rev. Msimangu, from the big city of Johannesburg carrying grave news of his sister’s ailment.

Kumalo has heard many dreaded tales about the goings-on in this bewildering big city of Johannesburg but the gravity of the news of his sister’s ailment and other even more pressing reasons impels him to embark on this journey for Kumalo must also find his son, Absalom, who had initially gone to the big city to look for his aunt Gertrude and her son but had stopped writing home leaving them without any further news of his activities and whereabouts and so they feared for his safety. Moreover, he must also find his brother, John, whom he hadn’t heard from in a long while.

But what awaits him in the big city?

My Sentiments

The whole narration was very moving and believable. It almost felt like watching a sad documentary of a rustic family whose misfortune and sorrow seemed to know no end. The characters felt real and one could easily identify with their pains. Take for instance the protagonist, Stephen Kumalo.

From the time of the receipt of that foreboding letter from Msimangu, he suffers a spell of misfortune throughout the book even to the very last page where we find him keeping vigil on the eve of his son’s execution. One would have thought that amid these dark times of his life, his faith would have ebbed away with the tides of his mounting sorrow yet the opposite seems to have been the effect for in several places, we find him giving advice and even maintaining a posture of gratitude for he reckons he still has a lot to be thankful for. Indeed, it wouldn’t be too farfetched to say Kumalo represents the quintessential village priest cum father!

Another lovable character is Theophilus Msimangu, who unhesitatingly plays the part of a good friend and advisor to Kumalo helping him every step of the way in first finding his sister, then brother and eventually his son. It would be safe to say he was even present at the execution of Absalom because he had promised Kumalo he will be there. Msimangu, unlike John Kumalo (Stephen Kumalo’s obnoxious brother with a selfish sense of self preservation), comes across as a level-headed man because he seemed to have a good grasp of the vicious cycle of the fear induced oppression with its resultant rebellious crimes. Thus he bemoans the systems yet refuses to hate the white man because he notes they are not all alike citing Father Vincent as an example of this exception while appealing to the marvelous care and training in craftsmanship he gives to poor and blind black kids at Ezenzelendi. Kumalo marvels and retort that even he with his sight cannot achieve such finesse as displayed by the blind kids at their craft.  

However, the hero of this novel for me was James Jarvis whose son, Arthur was shot dead. The tragic irony of Arthur’s demise is that he was vociferously advocating the termination of the apartheid system when he met his untimely death at the hands of a black man. Jarvis had had a few altercations with Arthur over his heady insistence on pursuing this cause so one would have expected him to be bitter against the blacks and more especially the family of the man that killed his son yet that was not what happened. He was gentle to Kumalo when the latter unbeknown to him ended up at his house seeking information. He even went on further to seek the services of an agric extension officer in attempt to restore the fallow valleys of Ndotsheni to arable farmlands to benefit the people.

Moreover, he is quick to reassure Kumalo upon receiving his letter of condolence after the demise of his wife that though she was never quite the same after the demise of their son, the ailment she had suffered was not due to that incident and that she was in full support of all the philanthropic works he was undertaking. Even more shocking and commendable was the fact the he allowed his grandson who was on vacation in Ndotsheni to be frequenting the house of Kumalo. This is indeed a very magnanimous man with a heart of gold!  

Without dispute, Mrs. Lithebe qualifies as the heroine of the novel because though she was childless, she was very welcoming to the Kumalos who were properly strangers to her and was always quick to spot “idle and careless laughter” between Gertrude and male passers-by whose salacious intentions were obvious and she will proffer sagacious advice accordingly.

Conclusion

A lot more can be said about this novel but in sum, the author tells the story in such a masterful way which poignantly captures the pathos of the apartheid era in simple language rich in indigenous expressions. Grab a copy if you can!

Password Incorrect by Nick Name

How do I even begin to express my views on this book? If anyone has read it I’m sure they will appreciate my ambivalence. My initial reaction toward the book was this, that either the author is a sheer literally genius or has very little regard if any for editorial rules and/or writing styles.

Password Incorrect is a collection of short stories which is mostly choppy, humorous and quite frankly annoying at times especially when one is really getting engrossed in what would have otherwise been a juicy read only for the story to come to an abrupt ending leaving one in a cliffhanger.

However, that the stories are mostly witty in an absurd kind of way cannot be denied. The author's name is a telltale attestation to this. The stories also mostly carry undertones of playful mischief with such silly titles are Nose Number 32, Childult, Mr. Copypaste and Micro-Hockey (which so far happens to be my favorite.)

But on the whole, for one to even blog about it shows that the book is meritorious in its own right albeit of the fun yet idiotic sort.

It’s available for free online and on android devices for anyone interested to read it.

Enjoy!

Letter To Rachael

Dear Rachael,

My name is Michael Appiah-Duku. I’m a Ghanaian and live in Ghana in West Africa. I just finished reading your story which broke my heart, to say the least, yet didn’t find it shocking because in my country, it’s commonplace to find children of staunch Christians being wayward. In fact, people anticipate children of pastors or church elders to be bad.

I am myself the son of a pastor. I had to deal with an even stricter upbringing. But I must say it was your dad and his incredible site that really made much sense of Christianity to me while growing up and I’m ever grateful to God for that. And now that I’m old and with the benefit of hindsight, I’m grateful to God for a strict parent who obeyed God’s clear admonishing to “Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” Pro. 22:6

This is what I have come to learn (and I am still learning and boy is there tons I got to know. I totally agree with Paul when he says “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” Rom.11:33) that God is the only one who is all-knowing. If humans too were all-knowing, then we too will be God. But we’re not. Therefore, it isn’t prudent to want all the answers to all of life’s questions before you decide to believe. Then where is the element of mystery? Where is the trust? After all, He has said “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.” Deut.29:29. We are not to know everything. What God in his sovereignty has revealed to us should suffice!


One thing we also know as Christians is that God is good. Therefore, we can boldly assert that all that he permits to come our way must be for a good purpose though I admit it doesn’t often feel that way especially on this side of eternity. And that is fine because we’re finite. He is infinite! So it is all the more prudent to trust his judgment because he knows the end from the very beginning and he’s assured us that it’s good. Therefore we are hopeful. Jer.29:11.

And as for what you’re calling freedom, I think it’s just a chasing after the wind. You’re only allowing your natural (sinful) self to have its way. No restrictions. No self control. And I’m sure it’s must be exhilarating to be acting all happy-go-lucky but it’s just tantalizing because in the end it only leads to utter despair. If you wouldn’t even trust an African in some third world on his prognosis, I’ll encourage you to at least consider the words of someone who is touted by many as ‘the wisest man that ever lived.’ He did it all and tried and it all yet found hedonism utterly unfulfilling and pointless and in his despondence bellowed “Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity.” Eccl.1:2. I sincerely hope you’ll glean lessons from this wise man and repent. Do not wait till you suffer the same fate to grasp the lessons he learnt.

Well, as for me, I can only wish you well and pray that hat God will do for you what he did for Lydia: He opened her heart so that she gave heed to what Paul said (Acts 16:14). I do however admire your honesty and I believe it’s the first step towards repentance when you realized you truly didn’t believe.

May God be with you Rachel!

Soli Deo Gloria!!!!