Catfish from Ghana

Catfish from Ghana

Ghana catfish (1)

Out of the blue another catfish requested friendship.

Knowing the drill, the contact was calmly accepted

“How are you?” she asked from her phrasebook

‎”Well thank you,” said I prepared for imminent clip.

“I am about to play tennis,” I defensively stated.

‎”May I call back in about 6 hours?” with a coy look.

‎We parted amicably; she said “See you soon.”

She was confident I would be her fatuous goon.

As I walked in the door, her call rang loud and shrill,

I answered and she asked, “What are you doing?”

“I am counting my money; but are you also sexymum?”

“What do you mean by that?” she asked in a chill.

“Who is the son and who is this mum you’re meaning?”

“There was a sexymum today who wanted to be my chum.”

“So why are you telling me all this?” she inquired.

‎”I think you chat with many girls; are you much admired?”

“Heavens, no! I thought you were the same appealing person.

I hardly chat with anyone; I’m a celibate curmudgeon.

But like you she is twenty-nine and called from Ghana.”

‎”Do you have friends here in Ghana?” she turned a question.

“I cannot say I do, only contacts offering love to a john.

‎But why are we typing, is there no sound I wonder?”

“I don’t have a mic. If you send money, I can buy one,

“Send to Western Union, then we can have some fun.”

“I see you are very beautiful, though a trifle previous.”

“Thanks, but I was never called previous before.

Have you finished playing tennis, or on the court?”

“It was very exhausting, but not at all injurious.

Are you a Ghana native or from some other shore?”

“I am a mulatto, half my parentage in Britain wrought.

But you? Are you wealthy, white, guilty and pure?”

“I am Australian, not so guilty as I am demure.”

“That is so nice. Can you tell me about yourself?”

Have you been to darkest Africa at any time?

Did many piccaninnies say you were handsome?”

“No, none. I have not seen Africa, fearing the aardwolf.

But I have been to the Lebanese and Syrian clime.

Does my image suggest to you that I’m cuddlesome?”

“Your image did allure, but your name was irresistible.

God inspired me that your aura is virtuous and laudable.”

“Yes, I do have a wonderfully attractive name.”

“Tell me what work do you do? Is it lucrative?”

“I am a teacher of modest means, aged and insecure.

But what is your job? What do you call your game?”

“I am a student here where my mother’s a native.

But where do you teach? Is it a source of pleasure?”

I am a private teacher, looking to leisure in retirement.

In two years I hope for my labour’s easy abatement.”

“You retirement will be happier loving me, a nurse,

From Kumasi, Ghana. Send some money and I’ll arrive.

To Western Union. I can’t give my name to a bad bank.

My mother said marry a learned man with open purse.

What do you teach? Quick, do not be cunctative.”

“English, history, economics, French and Latin, by rank.

But, ho! I see that you are moving, as if you are living.”

“I am and you are a polymath of wide learning”

“Yes, I am very learned, and quite charismatic.”

‎”You are miraculous. I can’t see you typing.

I see your hand but it is still. Have you a typist?”

“It’s my hand. I no other hands than mine, nor magic”

“Your speed in writing renders me to marvelling.

I would have you replace my father who is lost,

Shelter me and my mother in your home;

Support us and you won’t be sad and lonesome.”

“Many girls in Africa have a similar problem.

I know a large bevy who have lost their father,

Who yearn to go to countries to live with strangers.”

“Really? what countries do these poor girls come from?”

“From western Africa, Nigeria, Ghana or Niger,

A common problem, burdened with comely handwringers.”

“Did you deceive me, claiming no friend in Ghana?”

“None of them is a friend; just a sad complainer.”

“But Dorothy, do tell. Do you have any offspring?

‎Is  that your name, or just a luring handle?

I’m single; I’ve never married and have no children.

I am thirty, nubile and loving if you are willing.”

“I am 64; maybe you are a daughter I did dandle.

“Maybe. Do you dandle in your family’s bosom, then?”

“No, I am single. I have no family, no catastrophic kin.

I’m too ugly and stupid for a wife, but have lived in sin.”

“No, say you are handsome, to inspire the lust I feel.

I am certain it was your choice that you did not marry.

‎You must be worthy. Be generous to my vanity.”

“You may be right. Perhaps I am a hunk and congenial.

I don’t want to marry now. I don’t have the energy.”

‎”Tell me why not,” demanded Dorothy with stridency.

“Good Dot, I’m too old for all the domestic drama.”

“But if you marry you will have someone to cook,

Someone to clean and talk to for an affordable fee.

Plus an income for my poor, poor family in Africa.”

“You’re kind, dear Dot. Now I like a quiet life and a book;

I don’t need a servant. I am also too selfish to marry.

I am used to being free and just doing what I want.

I think marriage would be like war, and constant.”

“No, don’t think that. Think of Western Union.

If we marry we will be in love, not enemies.

Be logical; how can our union turn to war?”

“A young woman and an old man cannot find fusion.

We’d have many causes for curses and blasphemies.

I’ve wenched widely often enough to be sure.”

“Oh! I see you have experience of what you are saying.”

“Indeed, I spent my youth in wanton philandering.”

“Goodness, my dear, I had no idea you were amoral.

Do you drink alcohol?” Indeed I do, quite often.

Sorry, but I have to leave now. I will see you later.”

“But are you a pure maid?” “But yes, I am virginal.”

“Dot, take care. That’s not healthy to live without stain.”

“I’ll send Western Union details where you may deliver.

We’ll talk once you send me the means to pay the rent.”

“But Dot, I have no intention of sending any payment.”

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