The Hostel Manager, The Programmer and Me ;)


So as you may have noticed, I recently acquired a brand new name! Rosa Antoinette ( Kuukua Annang Asante ( here’s the part where I do my happy dance and display all my 32 and couple more teeth lol.) Yes, I got married to a very beautiful person Francis Asante. Anyone who has met this man will understand how easy it was for me to  “fall” for him, and how privileged I am to share life with him . I am still working on finding the words to describe how I feel, God really outdid himself on this one. Maybe I will share that in another post.Right now I just want to share a bit of my joy, and some pictures  with you.

How we met…

Put simply, we were sold the same room at a hostel by a crook of a hostel manager called Pa George ( Shout outs to all the GIJ alumnae who can relate- Anthony Jackson, Jemila, Ini and the rest!). This was in 2010 I think, when I was studying for a Diploma in Communication Studies at the Ghana Institute of Journalism, and he was studying Computer Science at Ashesi University which was then located at Labone.

When it was time for us to move in, my roommate Araba and I were shown a room which was already being occupied by Francis and his roommate Henry! Of course I was angry, but my mother was angrier, you should have seen how she lashed out at the old man. Pa George eventually gave Araba and I a new room ( a better deal actually, thanks to Mama) but I had to meet the guys who “stole” our room and I did meet one of them – The One. We became friends, very good friends,(ok we dated, but you know our parents don’t like hearing tins like that ah)  and well, here we are now!

Lesson: In all things give thanks – even for the Pa Georges of your life! lol


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These young vendors made magic happen for me. I’d totally recommend them to you, check them out 0n instagram!

Photography: The MemoryLane Crew

Kente Dress: Zoya_ 233

Hair: RevUp Salon Gh

MakeUp: Lamisi MakeUp Artistry

How to Search for a Job in Ghana

You’ve finally graduated university. All praise to God who has shown you  such mercy. Now you too wield a certificate, the ultimate weapon of survival in this our economy. It doesn’t matter that you had Third class; we all know the hustle you went through to get to where you are. Shame on all the witches in your family who made that particular lecturer refer you twice, *onyame entua omu ka and may  God forbid that their children get to your level in life.

            Now you need a job. Yes. But not just any kind of job; you need one that befits your qualification. One that has many zeros at the end of the first two digits, and entitles you to a car and even a house in your first three months. Only the Ghanaian God can provide this and that is why you will pray to him, and pay your tithes dutifully, but the Ghanaian God can only help they who help themselves. So *Bra, listen very carefully.

            There are two ways by which you can secure this kind of job. The first is by protocol, you know, what we locally refer to as whom- you- know. This method requires you to have “connections”. Now is the time to dig out the numbers of very important people you know or can draw the faintest line of consanguinity to. Call your mother’s step- sister’s husband’s nephew, that one who is the Finance Minister’s assistant. Tell him how sorry you are about the death of his wife, whose funeral you were unable to attend two years ago. Explain your present situation to him, and tell him how you would appreciate his help.

May God forbid that he refuses you, or that he points out how unrelated your third class degree in animal husbandry is to finance. If he does that, quickly remind him of stories you heard about how he funded that grand funeral for his wife, stories of embezzling or some bad dealing. Stories like that are bound to work miracles, there’s always something under the rug.

            Or you can go to your local Assembly Man. Congratulate him on his election into office. They say one good turn deserves another; remind him of your parents’ generous contributions to his campaign for office. Don’t forget to highlight how instrumental you were in the in the campaign process. Remind him of how you sacrificed sleep to supervise the area boys gluing his posters on people’s walls in the middle of the night.

Now tell him what you want, and be sure to add that you are willing to do anything and everything so long as it’s in his office. Ehhn you are selfless like that. If you do not cut it as a member of one of the numerous committees in the assembly, it is not a problem. Tell him you can be his P.A’s P.A, or the carrier of newspapers from the security stand to the office, or  an expert coffee maker. You are very willing to serve. You’re even more patriotic than Kwame Nkrumah!

 To be continued…

*Bra- local slang for Brother

*onyame entua omu ka- May God pay them back in their own coin

P.S. I wrote this in 2010 I think; when I was so addicted to Elnathan John’s series lol.