What’s the difference between a cigarette, and a spliff….it depends who is gossiping about you

It’s been a while, I went into a bit of a hibernation. I go through that sometimes, ever since I was a little girl, I think it is some type of untapped manic depression that I never got treated for. Not that I am making a mockery of mental health, but it is getting depressed was never anything that we could talk about at home. My mother would say ‘what do you have to be depressed about, you have a roof over your head, you are able to eat 3 square meals a day, there are people out there who are not as fortunate as you so fix up’. That would be it, I would go into my room, cry a bit, wish the world would just swallow me up. Ask God what my purpose in life is and go into hibernation for a while. Then when I realized that there was no magic button that will fix everything, and/or the world would not swallow me up. I would just get on with things.

Maybe if I had someone to talk it out with, a counsellor or something, I wouldn’t allow the little blows to blow me over, but instead I allow it to devour me and then when I have more or less hit rock bottom, I say to myself, I have a purpose, God has put me here for a reason. I just have to figure out what that is and I am cool.

So the latest blow came early last week. There’s a spot behind my office with the old man who talks about his days gone by. He is probably about 60. He lived in London between 1977 and 1987, he has now lived more years back in Ghana than he did in London but he still dreams of his glory days. There was a girl, it didn’t work out too well, he sometimes goes into why it happened but then he stops himself, or I tell him I have to go back to the office when I can’t take the tears welling in his eyes. He never got over it and he never got married either. But in return for a free bottle of coke or some water I listen to him. He also tells me the history of Ghana, plus what goes on in Hotel Granada where this hotel is situated in. Who’s sleeping with who, the Nigerian businessmen who claim they are bringing in a tanker of oil, all kinds of things going on. It’s a good way to get away from the issues in the office for 30 minutes or an hour, like I’m watching a soap opera.

Another reason I go there is so that I can smoke my cigarette in peace. There is a designated smoking area within the office compound but although I’m British I am still seen as a Ghanaian. Ladies who smoke in public are frowned upon, not that they don’t, I have seen many a girl smoke in the local beer bar where they are out of sight from prying eyes (in fact I have met many), but girls who smoke are seen as a prostitute or a girl of lacking any moral fibre, so I chose not to smoke where I would be known as that girl who smokes.

So for 18 months I have been going there, however on this particular day last week I was on my way back when one of the managers asked to see me in private. She closed the door and said to me ‘I don’t want you to take this the wrong way butsomebody approached me about you, apparantely they saw you smoking weed, marijuana at the back of the hotel next door, what you do in your private life is your own business but during office hours it should stop’. Talk about Guilty until proven innocent.

I was taken aback, first of all, why this concerned citizen did not come to me, why the concerned citizen saw me smoking and the bad minded slanderous devil thought that it had to be weed and not a cigarette. Who this person was, and of all people, why not come and discuss with my boss. This particular lady, Freda, is the kind of person who smiles at you while stabbing you in the back. The ladies in my office run to her for advice mainly because she has lived abroad (rolling my eyes) so she gives them the benefit of her knowledge. We have never warmed to each other because I chose not to run up to her like the other ‘ghanian ladies’ do and it annoys her. But I just don’t trust her, and as my mum would say, my spirit doesn’t take to her so I’m staying away.

I told her I don’t do drugs, she didn’t believe me, but there was no proof to say I was and none to say I didn’t, so I told her to let the person know that I was not smoking weed, and if they ever see me anywhere they should approach me (I wanted to add that I will shove whatever I am smoking up the persons nose).

So after the ‘chat’ I told my line manager what happened, a woman like Freda could have it round the offic ein seconds that I am a pot head so I made him aware. The next day he called me in for a chat, he was actually quite upset that the concerned citizen did not speak to him but anyway he was supportive in his own way (he’s barely 30 and still a virgin, I’m sure when he took the role of manager he didn’t sign up for me and my emotional rollercoaster of a life). He asked me if he should talk to Freda to set the record straight but I said not to worry I will deal with it.

So I went to her office and said to her that I had time to think about the events of yesterday and what that person did amounts to slander, but anyway I have informed my manager so if the rumours start to spread he is aware. ‘Oh’ Freda said, ‘I didn’t think you would take it that far, I was just having a tet a tet with you’. Tet a what tet, nonsense, so I said quite calmly, the person is accusing me of doing something during office hours which is illegal so I had to inform my manager. I don’t know what Freda’s end game was in this whole thing as she kind of sat back like she was disappointed that she was not the heroine that came to save the drug addicted employee. After she said oh for second time, I repeated that I hope this is the last I would here of it and walked out of the room.

I have been sitting in my house ever since wondering why all this drama follows me, on top of that I heard that the Grimm is now engaged to Bamby, which then got me wondering, why does only drama and cheating fools follow me.

There is this girl who sits next to me in the office, her name is Melissa, miserable as hell, we can go through the whole day and I don’t think she even cracks a smile, but she has a husband who loves her, not long after maternity leave, she has got another bun in the oven.

All I want is a man who loves me and wants to spend his life with me, and a job that is drama free.

So I have been hibernating, wondering what is wrong with my world, and what is this plan that God has in store for me. I hope to find it out soon.

I need a break.

About efiasworld

A British Born Ghanaian navigating her way through life.
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