THE GREEN KIOSK

NOTE: This is not the starting point, this is just something I wrote a year ago today and want to publish here. Thanks

     THE GREEN KIOSK.

Over the years the blue kiosk has proved to be the most popular among all kiosks. Thus whenever one mentions a kiosk, the blue kiosk automatically comes to mind. When one mentions the blue kiosk, I'm also likely to think about The blue Rasta Kiosk in Amma Darko's Faceless where Baby T's body was dumped. But today I want to tell you about a Green Kiosk that I've grown to love and appreciate. 

In my earlier days on Earth, I got to meet a kiosk that was greener than green grass and even the fresh green leaves of a tree. I believe that greenness was what attracted most people. It came with a revival and hope that they could come alive again as things were dry and brown in their pocket. My father, Efo Kofi is the owner of the Kiosk and has been the one in charge of it. 

In 2002, when I was born, he introduced a kiosk to me, he said I've played with the woods, I could carve anything you want including toys of any kind, you see that table there with the nail, harmer, and crosscut saw on it?, that used to be my office too until I decided to get better for y'all. Here I went to a kiosk. It has changed from many colors over the years, yellow, blue, and now you meet the green because things will be greener at your feet. 

My father sits in there for hours playing with numbers with hopes that at the end of the day, the wonders of the land will favor us. Many others join him in there discussing the numbers that are likely to drop and all that. This green Kiosk isn't just a numbers playground for my daddy, but it is also a head office for many other employed youths in my community. He is the agent and has others working under him. It was also the bank for many others who came with their problems just to get an interest-free loan. 

The green kiosk was also a stationary for us as our books, pens, pencils, and mathematical set all lay in there, the rod that was never spared was also in there. It was also a counseling center where our burdens were lessened. The Green Kiosk I was told was for some time at night, the community TV house, many people came in there to kill their boredom and laugh out their problems.

The Green Kiosk has served many purposes and has been a watch house too, where those who couldn't read the time with the sun like my grandma does, ask for time. As for the festive seasons, it served as the source of smiles for his workers and other close relatives because there was an assurance that they would leave with a bag of rice, oil, tomato paste, and some change for chicken which wasn't a chicken change. 

There were times the preacher men preached against the Green Kiosk, saying it was a sin and unacceptable, those days got my head going down and my soul falling out but I feel energized because some of the preacher men found solace from the Green Kiosk too, and even their celebration envelope has never passed by the Green Kiosk. 

When they said the lottery is gambling and a sin, I said it was what brought me this far. Today things are not the same, even the Green Kiosk is not as green as it was because the good things they say don't last. My father has been taken advantage of many times and even has lost many of his investments. The cry of a man is in his sweats. 

What men go through is always hidden in the sweat and mostly the sweat doesn't speak like the tears do…