What I am and how I’m perceived.

I know I have been away for too long. Pardon me, I lost one of my readers, someone very close to my family. She died on 24th December and changed the course of my Christmas celebrations. She would read, share and sometimes comment on my posts. Readerstellnotales will miss you Vicentia, I will always go back to read your comments my little girl. I have so many unanswered questions and so much sadness in my heart.

Maybe one day I will write about how I feel about death. But today it's what I am and how I am perceived.

My name is "red red," beans, cowpeas, "gorbe", whichever you call me. I'm rich in protein, and I provide elements of iron, magnesium, carbohydrates, fibre and vitamin B-6. That's my bragging right, but once you start complaining about things I have no control over, for instance how I'm prepared, or whichever food accompaniment I rock with, then you are not being fair to me.

I think I started hating beans right from primary one in OLA girls boarding house. Beans was prepared about twice every week and with dining being compulsory and hunger a "betweener", it was a must go for dining.

Beans which was stored for long with weevils who found their homes in the grains got me angry. If plantains were in season we would be lucky to have some fried plantain to go with the beans. If not, you have your gari and beans with palm oil.

To be able to eat the beans, some of us had to mix it with sugar. (No wonder my mum always made sure I took a dewormer on every vacation. The sugar was written all over me. Oh just tell me, am I not sweet? Lol). Some will mix the beans with the gari and later pick the beans one by one, not to be eaten but to be thrown away.

Whenever I went home for vacation I wouldn't even eat beans prepared by my mum. I never ate beans from any other place either.

Grown up now, I decided to give beans another chance when my mum won't stop preaching about its nutritional value. I tried and I enjoyed it. I enjoy the beans with the plantain so much that I'd make sure we eat beans at least once every week. It is the same beans my lovely readers.

Let me ask you a question. On what basis do you make a final judgement on someone or something? Seen, tried and tested or by a hearsay? Most of us are cognitive misers.

I'm always amazed at the kind of judgement people make on social media. Recently, there was an on-going educational referendum. A friend posted a picture encouraging Ghanaians to vote in their numbers and there came a volcano erupting at her door.

This is someone you know from nowhere.

I used to be funky. I'd shave my hair when others are braiding. I'd shave half hair and braid one side. I was nicknamed "stone girl". Behind this look is a simple girl trying to enjoy her life but to the public she is a deviant. I still ask myself which laws of my community I was breaking by looking funky.

What baffles me most is that upon our skills in painting people black, we still can't figure our politicians out. Have we figured them out and yet chose to live in denial? Or we really just do not have better options?

Our silence is loud at times when we conclude on things we actually don't know. Your words could ruin someone's hard built reputation. Don't be quick to define anyone.

Basically, your perception for beans doesn't necessarily make the food a bad one. Your perception about people doesn't kill the real identity, the issue is you speak, act, or reason from the other side. Move on to the other side and get a clearer view. Don't let people define you, remember beans remains beans regardless of your perceptions about it.
Adios amigos 😍😘