Location: On a farm
Time: 14:28pm
Atmosphere: Warm Tuesday afternoon
Characters: Two middle-aged men.
Other details: A bunch of Plantain, 2 cutlasses, 2 pairs of Wellington boots. Microphone.
***
Kwaku: And so, when Minista Colossus, alias Plaintiff Minista, alias Prenten Minista, in his quixotic voice, decided to impose his ill-informed position of what he thought was the estimated value of Musa Politicos in both marginal and nominal terms on Votas (what am I even saying?) he was jolted from his doze and given a dose of fermented anger…
Kodzo: Prof-prof. Yevugbe. Please, I beg, what did you say?
Kwaku: Oh yes, it’s true. I was there myself. Standing under the hot Tuesday sun, pulling his mask under the spectacles an inch higher and drawing his pair of spectacles to the bridge of his nose, and opening a fat hardbound folio to a page marked by a long grey chicken feather, he began to read: “according to the Encyclopedia Britannica, Prenten is a clop. Oh no, it’s a fruit. Yes, it is a clop”
Kodzo: Whaat?
Kwaku: And, we have done so well over the last 3 years to flood the market with enough food. In fact, we have food security. If you visit Coronamarket today, you would get a whole bunch of the staple weighing not more than 5 kilos. In fact, you may even find some weighing as low as 3 or 4 kilos…
Kodzo: Prof-prof. Akuafo adanfo. Akuaniba pa!
———-
PS: WIP
#W4CGH
#TRACKTHEPROCESS