Cold feverish evenings; hot sweaty afternoons; noisy busy streets; the daily sound of police siren and occasional gunshots; these were the early memories of growing up on one of the most unforgiving neighbourhood in Kumasi. AYIGYA ZONGO! The rarest of place on earth, where being a child means nothing more than just another English word. You are treated as just another fella from the streets; that might be a snitch, a threat, or a competition. Your life on the streets of this suburb of Kumasi were not shaped by your ambition to become somebody in future or your dream to achieve perfection or unbounded imagination, but by the harsh realities of “waking up hungry and going to bed hungrier”.The psycho-social factors which interacted with us on a daily basis shaped who you became. Stories of missing children used for rituals, police busting, young rich “hustlers” drug peddlers, teenage dads and mums, gambling, video game centres, movie centres (Cine), drug addicts, armed robbers, amateur football clubs. There was no escaping from these activities. You either gets caught up one of these acts or one of the acts get you caught by the law.
“There was no escaping from these activities. You either get caught up one of these acts or one of the acts get you caught by the law.”
Let’s step back a little; my name is Boss Bouncy. I grew up at this suburb of Kumasi precisely in the neighbourhood called “Death roll” and lived most my life there. I grew up as a kid with no passion, emotions or sensations. I was just a stone cold fella. I guess I had seen a lot happened so early in my life which had made me almost heartless. I have seen; decomposing dead bodies lying in bushes when I was 6 years, cocaine and weed “wee” when I was only 10 years and held real guns when I was barely 13years old. In the neighbourhood where I grew up, school was never a 1st priority, neither was it a 2nd priority and I doubt it would have been the 3rd if ever there was a third. Your dreams were only as good as becoming rich selling weed, and that is if you are lucky to have a mentor/godfather who was already in the business.
I wouldn’t overdramatize my youngling days. I also had my cartoony side where I lived a world of imagination. Once I imagined myself a super hero “captain planet” wannabe. I wasn’t from a rich home, but thank God for my parents, they were enlightened enough to pursue a better life for their child in the midst of all these vices and within a suburb of moral depravity.
THE BIRTH OF A DREAM
School wasn’t exactly my favourite thing, but I must admit without any trace of egocentrism, I was pretty much a SMART KID. My teachers liked me that much for that reason, and I “hated” them much for same. It all begun to fall in proper perspective when a tiny tinny little spark of passion burst into an inferno of obsession for football. Again, not being boastful but Messi and C.Ro got nothing on me. I was a football genius. “Odin” (god in Norse Mythology) would even have looked down at me with a smile because I began to feel like a football god. Football became the breath of life I breathe, the food I ate, the water I drunk and the one love I ever knew.
But like they say; The Best things in life do not last. “Love” goes sour right from here. This is what medical practitioners will call D.O.A…(I know the Hip Hop and Jay Z fans are already thinking “Dead Of Autotune”…hahahahaha). This one actually means Dead On Arrival.
End of Part One…
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