The time is seven o’clock. Today is the 24th of November 2004, I gently walked towards the Library to research some topics and uh! My tummy, they seem to be churning and turning. I quickly rushed to the Can, to relieve my bowels of all these toxic waste and I just couldn’t believe my eyes. The whole walls were covered by graffiti, this is my second time.
My first time seeing graffiti was when I entered the senior secondary school. I never paid attention to them anytime I entered the can so I didn’t know how topical it could be. Some writers say the number of graffiti found on the walls of a country determines the level of literacy that the country has reached. If this is true, then I guess what I saw really on the walls pushes us to a certain level of literacy.
Just to chip in a joke, my name is Dodzi, a student of the University I call “UNIVERSITY OF GRAFFITI”. You are warmly welcome if you would like to be my reader. In fact, what I saw in the can is what I would describe as a mess of all kinds of handwriting finding their way of expressing themselves on the piteous walls of the Balme Library.
In my quest and curiosity to find what those graffiti meant, I realized more than a dozen of topical issues on the wall. Some words found their ways into other letters making the species of alphabets useless. I found topics on sex, politics, advice, insults, bravery, emotions, psychology, spirituality, finance, economics, history, the list goes on and on.
As I sat on that clean loo, squeezing out all the toxic waste, my eyes settled on a modern topic that not too many people talk about but really a booming practice among males and females alike. Written in blue ink at the far edge of the wall was
“Advice me, I masturbate everyday”
What! Everyday? Are you a…, I couldn’t exhaust my words and lo and behold, I saw a polite answer scribbled at the right side of that inscription
No more masturbation, go and marry
That’s nice, but read what I saw on the left side of that statement
Bravo, research has shown that masturbating everyday relieves you of constipation. Carry on corporal
Isn’t that a devilish answer? No wonder it was written on the left side of that statement. Ah well, let’s continue. As I continued making those funny noises of easiness, my eyes once again caught a statement written by a young man that read:
I love older women
And somebody quickly answered:
Nonsense
Well answered, isn’t it? What about this funny statement:
God have mercy on women, for they are as cheap as sugar
Then the reply:
Who told you sugar is cheap?
This is really interactive, but take a glimpse at another stupid writing by a so-called student of a University:
Lovers of vagina club, please write your name:
Thinking that, some sensible people would frown on such an “advertisement”, some senseless students wrote their names in the column created for writing names to join that club. Look at some of them:
Satan, Demons, Osama, Sodom, Asasu
Except for Asasu, all those names were bogus. Hey! Somebody, a gay, decided to leave his particulars
Looking for gay, call 0243498928
This reminds me of the end times. Men are now dating men and sexually exploring their humanistic fantasies. Well, well, well, as if I’m aware of a pastoral crusade on the wall, I turned to find the writing
Seek ye first the kingdom of god and it’s righteousness–– let’s repent.
This is good advice but is it written in the right place? I rhetoric –– and somebody, also to advise wrote
Stop wiping your asses on the wall, buy T-ROLL
Who could this be? I surmise you would ask. That is a student, a student at the university of Graffiti. Driving my eyes from that turning point to concentrate on “wiping my ass” with my T-ROLL, they embraced a long stream of uppercased fonts that boldly read
INDEED THERE ARE BAD NUTS AMONG US AND I BET YOU THE SPIRIT OF THE DEVIL HAS AND IS STILL USING THEM. LET’S PRAY SO THAT HE WILL NOT GET LOST IN SATAN’S AS THE DAY IS APPEARING READ REVELATION.
WHOM is this sanctimonious author referring to? The truth is, he is referring to a nude and profane drawing on the wall of that can which I can’t draw nor paint.
Pulling up my underwear, I saw another battalion of words:
Please you come here to learn not to write on the wall. Please consiter on your book and stop writing on the wall. plese Day buy the pent with money not Stan. So plese and plese agai stop writing no the wall for Today going plese. by Mr. OBOMSUO. Good bye your swetheart. OBOMSUO
Can you believe this? anyway, as if they are Mr. Ayeboafo. They instantaneously did their editing. Just read their comments.
How on earth did you pass your English to come to legon? or are you a product of apo? You don’t seem to make sense when you write, coupled with the fact that you commit grammatical suicide.
I kept quiet to read somebody’s reply to Mr. Editor
Fool he pass his exams English at your mothers school.
This statement is too blunt and uncivilized, you would agree with me. But another editor had this to say:
Back door student, your place is to sell dog chains.
Ladies and gentlemen, don’t you think Mr. OBOMSUO should go back to the senior secondary school? Anyway, You decide.
I thought that was the end of my reading expedition, but some soaked politicians or should I say, political enthusiasts, couldn’t resist the opportunity of contributing their quota, to the graffiti’s already displayed on the moaning wall.
Only Ashantis are NPP’S
Somebody wrote.
NPP will fall
Another wrote
NDC all the way
The next added
No osono, no akatamanso
The last I saw
Quickly I stood up, Gently, zipped my pant, buttoned it, locked my belt, Got to the sink, washed my hands. I quickly turned the knob, opened the door and got out of the lavatory. In fact, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the sorrowful fun I had had in the can.
I got to the exit, went through a security check, got out of the library, and oh! My God! What a mistake?
To be continued…
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