Who killed Korkor?

Episode 6: Personal Interest

Sorry for no show last week. I hope you like the new banner. If you need to catch up to the previous episode, it is here.

Question: How many more episodes should this story be told in? 10? 13? Let’s hit up in the comment section below. Meanwhile, enjoy episode 6!

This was Inspector Ashitey’s chance to shine. He had worked 15 years at his post rising through the ranks from junior officer very early on. He had been waiting for a big case like this to emerge so he could help solve it. Surely this would bring his name up, maybe as far as Regional Commander. Well maybe, he would be trying his luck but he didn’t have much to lose.

That was why he was a little too eager to share information on the case with that reporter. He had messed up early on but Inspector Ashitey was determined to make it right. That was why he was now standing before the agent the President had sent. Sandra made him extremely uncomfortable just by glancing his way. There was something dark and twisted about her-it quite contrasted with her flowery scent that announced her presence seconds before appeared and lingered for hours long after she left.

He couldn’t figure out what was frightening about her but he knew it wasn’t all ‘in his my mind’. He saw how her agents who bodyguarded her hovered cautiously behind her. It was as if they were afraid of her shadow. He briefly wondered what they knew about her when he nodded at them and knocked on Sandra’s door. 

Standing before her, he was awed by how unassuming her physical appearance was and almost felt tempted to ask her how she had gotten to such a powerful place.

Sandra looked up from her desk at him warily.

“Yes, Inspector?”

“Good morning Special Agent”

“Good morning. Call me Sandra”

“Special Agent-Madam, is there any help you need with this case? My men and I are available to aid with your investigation.”

“Well, you can start by just calling me Sandra as I have asked for the 100th time.”

“I don’t see how that can happen if you are calling me Inspector”

Sandra smiled.

He couldn’t believe it! He made the Special Agent from the President smile! He grinned back at her.

“Have a seat James”

He sat quickly, his eyes never leaving her face, even as hers bored through his.

She leaned slowly and he mirrored her, excited by the proximity to power and strange darkness he didn’t quite understand.

“I know you want promotion so badly, to prove yourself competent and capable than where you are. That’s good -for you. God knows we need more people like you in this country, especially in the public sector.”

He nodded enthusiastically even as a part of him wondered if he was that obvious and readable.

“Patriotism and nationalism isn’t really a priority these days. Self-interest abounds and that’s why I have to refuse you.”

He blinked.

“I do not trust anyone.”

She leaned back and continued reading her file, tilting it so he couldn’t see what was in it.

He sat for two minutes staring at her- confused and surprised, then got up and left the room.

He went to the bathroom since his room was occupied- by the person who had surreptitiously informed him to stay of her way. He had offered his office to her.

He looked in the mirror at his graying scalp. His daughter, Baaba liked to count his silver strands and would exclaim afterward “Ei daddy, you are growing old!” He smiled faintly as he touched his hair.

Baaba was right, he was growing old. Very soon, he would be heading for retirement. He didn’t have much time left. He picked up the cap he had put on the sink. He was going to do something.


Olivia didn’t know if she should be doing this. She didn’t even think she should be here, at the police station to report her boss. Cythnia had insisted she say what she knew after she narrated that she saw her boss and minister arguing the night before she died. Well, Cudjoe was doing more of the arguing- shouting and raising his arms threateningly at Korkor, but she did tell Cynthia that. Neither did she disclose what had led her to search for Cudjoe frantically that night.

“Excuse me officer”

“Yes madam, what can I do for you?”

“I have some information concerning the case of the minister, the one who died”

Another police officer who had just come out behind the counter and was leaving, stiffened and came towards her.

He waved his hand dismissively at the officer she had been talking to and ushered her into a room with three other officers at desks. He asked them to leave and offered her a seat as he sat opposite her at one of the desks. He looked familiar.

“What do you know about the case of the dead minister?”

She stared at him testily.

“Sorry madam. I am Inspector James Ashitey. The information you have is delicate and I need to address you myself.”

“Okay, Inspector. I think I saw you talking about the dead minister on the news.”

“Yes.” Inspector Ashitey cleared his throat, pleased to be recognized.

“Do you still have my boss in custody?”

“I am sorry madam, I cannot give out that information. Who are you and who is your boss?

“My name is Olivia, I am Cudjoe’s secretary. Cudjoe was the husband of the Minister. I learned he had been arrested.”

“Oh I see. But you said you have some information for the police?”

“Yes, but I also wanted to ask if I could see him.”

“Who? Your boss”


“I am afraid that is not possible at the moment. He is helping with investigations.”

“What about posting bail?”

Inspector Ashitey was getting impatient. “Madam, what information do you have?”

Olivia sighed and murmured out what she could recall.

When she was done the Inspector rose quickly without a backward glance or comment, jumping into action, leaving her to wonder if she had done the right thing.


The fat man was back.

“Kuukua, how are you?”

“I am fine sir.”

“That is good”

“I am also fine too” Michael interjected

The fat man paused, his nostrils flared at Michael, he squinted at him and he turned back to Kuukua.

“Kuukua, I just received information that a warrant has been issued to search the deceased Minister’s house and the helps there have been taken to the police station for questioning. I want you to find out if the police will be willing to comment on the case.”

Kuukua jumped up, filled with joy of covering another story. “Yes sir”

“This will be in the evening news, so make it good like the live coverage you did the last time.”

“Yes sir” Kuukua nodded enthusiastically.

Michael stood up and handed a letter to the fat man.

“What is this?”

“My resignation”

The jowls of the director trembled as he heaved from shock.

“Wha-What do you mean your resignation? You are on suspension”

“Yes, however, what you did made me think about offers from other stations. Actually, my suspension brought in more requests. It seems plausible to leave this sinking ship. My first clue was letting half the staff off, but it must be really bad if an intern is covering the death of the minister.”

“So you want to leave because you were suspended?!”

Michael shrugged. Kuukua was confused. The director was trembling in anger.

“You are insufferable and rude! Leave immedia-”

The director didn’t finish his statement. He slumped over, choking, sputtering and gasping as he clutched his chest. The floor moved as his weight collapsed against it.

Kuukua stared at the twitching man in disbelief and looked up at Michael.

“Get the security now!”


 Caleb had already heard about the arrests. His informant had told him a lady had arrived at the police station and had been ushered into a room with the Inspector.

“What happened to the Special Agent on the case?”

“She is around but I don’t think she knows.”

“The Inspector didn’t tell her? Who ordered the warrant and arrests?”

“The Inspector did.”

“The Special Agent, you said she was a woman, correct?”

“Yes. But wɔ y3 hunu

“What do you mean?”

“There is something about that woman erhnnn. It is like, she has easily killed plenty people or something. I am surprised the Inspector didn’t tell her about the lady who came. It is like he is doing his own thing”

Caleb didn’t care about the opinion of the guy he was paying 5,000 cedis for every tip. He wanted to know who the woman was and what she had said to the Inspector.

“Where is the woman?”

“Still here.”

“I am coming”

Traffic was heavy and Caleb was late when he got to the police station. His informant told him the woman had just left in a white Hyundai. He raced out and got in his car to tail her. He followed her until she stopped at the Benedict Safo Health Centre.

He crinkled his nose in disgust. That place was infamous for one thing-abortions.

the Twi* phrase, wɔ y3 hunu means he or she is scary/ frightening

5,000 Ghana cedis is about $1,000

Who killed Korkor?

Episode 5: Suspect List

Welcome back. If you missed episode 4, find it here. I hope you like the story. Let me know your comments down below. Happy reading!

“Michael, I saw the police arrested the husband of the Minister who died the day her body was found”
“Well, why would they do that?”
“I think the police think he did.”
“Really? That woman was really disliked even though she was very elusive”
“Well, she is a politician.”
Was Kuukua, she was. That’s not what I mean. She popped up out of nowhere and was appointed. Before her appointment, no one knew who she was. A lot of politicians wanted that position.”

Michael paused thoughtfully, “I do know that her father was a minister.”
“That would explain her becoming appointed then”
“No, he died long before her appointment. She left the country and returned to set a PR agency.”
“PR agency as in public relations?”
“Yes, Kuukua. Stop interrupting me!”

“As I was saying, 2 months later, her name is on the appointment list and the vetting committee really gives her a free pass. She also seemed really surprised by her own appointment. Her facial expressions gave that away.”
“Then why didn’t she just refuse her appointment? If she wasn’t sure she could do it or why she was picked, she could have said no.”

Michael leaned back in his chair thoughtfully.
“You know, I did that special coverage of all the appointments then. I interviewed many of the appointees.”
“Did you interview her?”
“No, she didn’t grant any. Not from us or any other media entity.”

“That’s the thing about her. She didn’t want the limelight like most politicians. She seemed to be the sort of person that would shrink back.”

“I am sure that boss of yours killed the Minister” 

“Why? You don’t know him” Olivia argued

“He stands to benefit the most from her death. Doesn’t he?” Cynthia countered
“Why would he be the first to be arrested then? The police know it too” She added 

“But had his own income, quite at the same amount the Minister made. There is no reason-“

“My sister, this country is not how it used to be o. People don’t only kill for money anymore. People can now kill because they can. Don’t you know most women die at the hands to their spouses?” Cynthia cut in


“Look, I know that man was your boss and you don’t want to report him”

Olivia insisted, “I can’t believe he can kill his wife or anyone, Cynthia”

“So you will believe when it had been you who was dead instead of his wife?”

Olivia fell silent. She closed her eyes in an attempt to quell her throbbing headache. Too much was happening to fast. It made her dizzy and nauseous.

She could see that night again in her mind’s eye. She was searching for Cudjoe to break the news to him. Then she heard voices outside at the back.

Cudjoe was shouting and the Minister was pleading.
She hadn’t seen the minister look so miserable. Olivia knew the fear in the Honorable’s face very well. Her own husband used to beat her and almost killed her – had it not been Cynthia who took her to DOVVSU*to report him. Olivia’s marriage was annulled shortly afterward and her own mother blamed her of sabotaging her own marriage.
She still had a rib that shot pains when she laughed and a scar that ran on the side her arm.

The Minister had been clearly afraid of Cudjoe. But could Cudjoe kill her? Did he kill her? She of all people should know how dying at the hands of a husband felt like, she had come close.

“I did not kill her” Cudjoe repeated for The 10th time. He was exasperated.
The lawyer didn’t believe him. This was bad. 
“Who do you believe did it then?”
Your mother
“Are you trying to be funny? At a time like this?”
“No, I meant her mother. Her mom. Mehn, I am just so stressed”  His American accent begun to creep into his voice. It only happened when he was deeply afraid.
“Who the minister?”
“Where is she?”
Mehn, I don’t know”
The lawyer paused.
“Okay, what is her name?”
Cudjoe shrugged. 

The lawyer was in disbelief. “You don’t know your mother-in-law’s name?” “The mother of the woman you married? And you want to accuse her of murdering her own child?”
Mehn, she’s a ghost” Cudjoe shrugged then winced

Maybe he shouldn’t have used the word ghost.
“What do you mean she’s a ghost?”
“See mehn, Adelaide aint seen her in years, even before she became Minister.  She told me she suspected her appointment was set up by her mom. She told me her mom was a powerful person. The kind that toppled governments and started wars, you know…” Cudjoe trailed off
The lawyer burst into laughter.”A woman ?! A Ghanaian woman” This was incredulous for the lawyer.

Cudjoe’s accented deepened “What? You think she aint ruthless cuz she is a woman? Don’t believe that peaceful and loving shit about all Ghanaians. Some are ruthless-like all humans” 
“You still haven’t said why this woman would kill her daughter.” 

Cudjoe shrugged ” Cuz, maybe she was in her way? Addie said her mom only called her when she wanted something from her. I’m guessing that why she made her Minister of Security- you know? Feed her info and shit like that.”

“Is there any way we could prove what you are saying Mr. Ashitey? Please there is no need for the profanity”

Mehn, I be cussing cuz my own lawyer believe I killed Addie! Nobody believes me!”

The lawyer shrugged then he slowly rose, picking his suitcase”

“Mehn, where you going?”
“Mr. Ashitey, I am sorry you have to find yourself another counsel. I am unable to handle your case any longer”

“Mehn, what you doing? You supposed to be my lawyer, Mehn what Imma gonna do?

“Don’t believe that peaceful, loving accommodating crap about all Ghanaians. Some of us are just human- like you.”

*’Your mother’ is an insult, characterized by the tone and emphasis used

*DOVVSU  is the Domestic Violence Victims Support Unit of the Ghana Police Service

Who killed Korkor?

Episode 1: A body at the beach

Hi guys, Happy New Year! So, I promised to work harder and better at this blogging and story writing thing. I wrote a murder series story for you. Best part? You get to pick up on the hints dropped throughout the story and find the killer. The only rule; Who has the strongest motive ? I hope you like it!

For Sam, thank you 🙂

The body had been washed ashore and the fishermen found her facedown, head in the sand. By noon, there was a crowd and the police struggled to push their way through. Her body had now been turned, her back in the sand and her disembodied face looked up, skywards. Phones were snapping away and there was a news reporter nearby gesturing at the crowd. The cameraman swung away from the reporter and tried to hoist the camera above his head, to get a shot of the body .
Inspector James Nii Ashitey shook his head. This world. Nobody cared or respected the sanctity of the lifeless body that was almost bereft of clothes.
Kusi, struggling to hold the people back turned to his boss and ran up quickly to him.
” Yes sir!” He said with a quick salute.
” Get something to cover the body and get some tape to set a perimeter”
“Yes inspector!” He walked away alerting the two other officers struggling to keep back the ever increasing crowd. More people were coming around, jostling each other to take a look or get a better snapshot.
Adjei-Nortey and his fishing partner, Mr. Quarshie were waiting to speak with the Inspector.
They were the first people to have discovered the body. They sat from their fishing boats further up the beach.
“Ah, but Mr. Quarshie this is not the first time a dead body has washed up here. I have never seen the Police Inspector here over a dead body”
Mr. Quarshie nodded in agreement. His huge head delicately balanced on the fat rolls of his neck. He stuck out his meaty hand and turned it sideways as if directing someone to flip meat on a grill. “Me-Myself, I don’t know what is happening” he added in broken English. He added in Ga, “I hope the police finish soon, Mama Ga is waiting for me to sell her fish.”
They fell silent and watched the police struggle to push back the crowd and setup the yellow tape with sticks. The coordinated efforts of the officers seemed to work as they regained space around the body. Adjei-Nortey turned to the approaching wail of sirens and watched an ambulance halt at the top of the road above the beach.
“Ah, ambulance for this body?” He was confused. Nobody had ever responded this way to the many bodies found on the beach over the years. In this 13 years as a fisherman, he had seen many dead bodies on the beach; many from drowning, some murdered but with few leads for the police. The sea water did a good job of washing evidence off. Not that the police didn’t care about the bodies that arrived on the beach once a month or so, they often many were victims of unfortunate drowning: a usual weekend beach party with too many drinks and no lifeguards. Most often when the bodies turned up in a day or two, the victims’ relatives turned up with a chartered taxi or in fewer instances, a hearse to cart the corpse to the mortuary. Ambulances were rare and expensive.

He turned to look at Mr. Quarshie who placed out his hands quizzically, as if to deflect his question of who the dead the person was.
“This person must be important” Mr. Quarshie said in slowly, his chin wobbling in agreement. They watched from the boats they sat as the body was carefully placed on the stretcher and carried to the ambulance.
Inspector James Ashitey gave a few more instructions to his men and turned his attention to the fishermen.
The reporter crossed his path. He scowled at her. ” No comment madam”
She was petite with a large forehead and tinted glasses. He wondered briefly who gave her the job, she looked more like the people behind a desk and read a lot of books.
She flashed a smile, “Inspector Ashitey I haven’t even asked a question yet”
He was taken aback. How did she know his name?
His hesitation gave the window of opportunity she need. She shoved the microphone to his lips and the camera man swung to him. She whispered, “This is live”.
His eyes widened and he quickly took of his hat. He begun to sweat more profusely. He hadn’t been on TV before. He looked nervously through the dark lens of the camera staring back at him. Were his children watching him?
” Um-Herhh…Today we found a body of a young female at the Kushie beach. We believe the person to be between the age of 40 to 45 and-“
He was cut off by the journalist who put the microphone to her mouth. “Inspector, bodies are found here many times but it seems the police has particular interest in this body, can you tell us why?”
She had returned the microphone back to him, placing it at the corner of his lips, as if to gently draw his words out of him.
“Erm, at this point in time, we cannot release information as investigation is ongoing”
This time, he tried not to look into the camera as he spoke. So he looked at her face. When had she taken of her glasses? Standing so close to him, she looked like smaller. Her expression was doeful, like his little daughter, Baaba denied of her icecream.
“Er..we believe the body is a person of interest, connected to another high profile case”
She lit up and popped a question.
“Crowd observers at the beach have examined the body and commented on how familiar this corpse is in appearance to the Minister of Security, Madam Adelaide Korkor Ashitey. Can you confirm this?”
He didn’t need to, his face did the talking. He pushed the microphone away quickly and hurriedly signaled to his men to stop the harassing reporter.
As he arrived next to the two fishermen, he was out of breath and panting.

Cudjoe swung away from the desk where he sat watching the live midday news. He angrily pounded his fist on his desk. Olivia, his secretary, a young lady with a tight fitting blouse and skirt rushed in.
“Is everything okay Cudjoe?”
He turned to look at her annoyed. “Why are you here?”
“Well, I heard a noise”-
He cut her off. ” Get out”
She turned nimbly and walked out. She was used to his outbursts. She sat back at her desk and continued typing her report. Her phone screened buzzed again. She rolled her eyes. It was her friend Cynthia calling again. She had called several times that afternoon. Olivia picked up her call.
“What is it Cynthia?”
“So you haven’t heard the news?”
“What news? Cynthia I am busy o”
“Your boss, his wife has been found dead at the Kushie beach. Keep telling me you are busy. Busy madam.”
Olivia paused, shocked at the news.
“Are you sure?”
“Ah! What is wrong with you? Why would I make this up? Check the news right now, they are live at the beach!”
“Okay” Olivia’s reply came out meekly. She was in a daze.
Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the touchscreen of her tablet.
She gasped at the expression of the Inspector when the reporter asked of the identity of the dead person.
“Turn that thing off!” Her boss snapped at her
“Sorry “
“Do I pay you to be here, watching videos ?”
“But Cudjoe what is”-
“Save it Olivia”
There was an awkward silence as Olivia slowly looked at him. She looked at his face carefully, searching for a sign. He refused to look at her. He knew what she wanted to ask him.
He turned away and walked back into his office.

Back at the station Inspector James Ashitey was being blasted by the Commander.
“This is a serious case Nii! You can not be releasing sensitive information on air just like that!”
” I am sorry Commander. The woman put me on the spot.”
“That is not an excuse! The BNI and National Security will be here in an hour and we have to give them something good! This is our chance to show the good in our station. Don’t mess it up James!” , he thundered
“No sir I won’t”
“Good” the commander paused and lowered his tone.
“Put the briefing report together and tell the men to do some cleaning before they officials arrive. We have to look our best.”
“Yes sir. Commander, shouldn’t we send some officers to bring her husband for questioning?”
“Yes do that immediately and search the house.”

Cudjoe left the office and headed home. He was well aware the police would be at his doorstep any minute. He needed to take care of something first. As he rushed off, Olivia called back Cynthia.
“Hello Cynthia? He just left. I think he knows its true.”
“Ah! But how can this happen? Was it not yesterday we saw them at the gala?”
“Yes” Olivia’s voice trembled.
She wanted to tell Cynthia what she saw the night before but she didn’t know where to start.
“Ey! Ewiase!” Cynthia lamented. Olivia breathed sharply and Cynthia sensed her fear.
“Olivia what is wrong?”
“Cynthia I saw them fighting last night.”
“Who? Your boss”
“Yes and his wife, the minister.”

“My sister, call the police!”

Life Lessons~Part 2


This thing called love erhn! ❤️

I have watch Jamie Grace videos saa, with tear filled eyes when she found the ‘one’, flowing tears when she got married and laughter when her first baby came along. Like it is my life.

Oh but it is nice to watch something you have expectation for and aspire to experience in perfection.

So why don’t you have a boyfriend?


I have answered this question severally. Different responses. Different reasons. Different people.

And now I want to say that I am good for now. 😊

Life Lessons ~Part 1


Felicity is my childhood friend.

We grew up together in Ahinsan, a urban community filled with no gutters, stench, public toilets and lots of playing children like us.

She was beautiful as a child. She was fair. Her skin was like the sun setting on white beach sand. Sometimes, in the sunlight, she could look translucent. Her hair was golden. It was curly and in my mind, they were the locks of Goldilocks. Her smile was the sweetest.

I don’t know how we found each other but I remember always going to her end. Up the hill, past the huge mango tree, dashing between some houses-sometimes walking through a room, porch or bathroom of someone’s house to get to her place.

We would play many games together. I can not recall what kind but I always remember stealing glances at her. Her beautiful skin, her pink lips and her pearl teeth when she laughed.

Then we moved away.

I was in high school when I heard her mom died. I couldn’t remember how her mom looked like. But I remembered her father. He was fair. He was beautiful. His daughter took after him. He died shortly after we moved away.

I didn’t go for the funeral when my mom asked me to join her.

Once I visited my dad’s office after school. Felicity had come to see my father along with her sister. They were leaving. I couldn’t recognise her. Her skin had toned down to a bronzed orange. Her face was beset with pimples and fear. Her large doe eyes were still there. I looked away.

I was in university when they brought a pregnant Felicity to our house. She stopped school early-somewhere junior high. She didn’t really get school. She was supposed to be helping her sister at a sales store. She met a Chinese local miner there.

She became pregnant.

The Chinese refused to have anything to do with her. Her sister’s husband wouldn’t allow Felicity to stay. So she came to stay with us. I spoke briefly with her before I left for school.

She told me how my parents tried to get her to learn how to sew clothes but she wasn’t interested. “The obroni man told me he would take me to his country”. I just stared at her hair. The golden shine was gone. It was dark black. She was sun burnt too.

When I returned, she had given birth to baby boy- Akwesi.

Soon after, my mom threw her out.

“She is so lazy! She doesn’t even change the baby or bath it! She wakes up, goes for food from the kitchen and lies by the baby all day watching telenovelas. She doesn’t take Akwesi for medical screening! I can’t tolerate this behaviour in this house!”

Last month, I saw Felicity. She came to visit. She had her two children with her. She had come to see my dad for money for her hair dressing training materials. He got her enlisted at a reputable hair braiding saloon.

I walked past the saloon last week- twice but she was not there. My mom sai d to me this morning.

I have not seen Felicity at the saloon this entire month I have visited the place. I only looked at my mom as I drove past the playing children in Ahinsan.

*obroni-white man

*Akwesi-male boy born on a Sunday

picture credit: tripadvisor.co.uk

Who killed Korkor?

Episode 7: Self Interest

Hello guys, We are rounding up soon. Don’t forget to subscribe so you don’t miss updates. Find episode 6 here. Happy Reading! 🙂

Thank you Enam!

“You fool!”

“Madam, I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice”

“Lower my voice?!” Sandra turned to glare at the Inspector who was avoiding her gaze.

“I tell you to stay out of my way and you make arrests?!”

Her hand moved towards the empty mug on her desk. She threw it at the Inspector’s head so quickly he barely had time to dodge.

Inspector heard the dull whoosh of the mug fly past and the smash of the ceramic. He touched the wet blood oozing out of where he had been nicked.

He was shocked.


Kuukua stood by her boss and watched him breath softly, almost in step with the beep of the heart monitor. She had spent her time more often at the hospital since there was not much going on after her boss collapsed. The staff it seemed had been waiting for an opportunity such as this because they had not been paid in months. So, the station only showed movies, videos and other content that didn’t require much money. One manager had advised her to end her internship and enjoy the rest of the holiday but she found herself visiting the motionless man at the 37 Military Hospital each day.

It had been 3 days. She wondered where his family was: a wife, child or sibling but no one had shown up yet.

She also had asked Michael to come see the man after they first brought him to the emergency ward. Michael paid a down-payment and walked out as the nurses wheeled her unconscious boss away.

She ran after him.

“Michael! Where are you going to?”

“What does it look I am doing young lady?”

“But why are you leaving?”

“What do you want me to do? I have dropped his details. His family shall come for him. I have been extraordinarily helpful. I have carried that fat man to this place and paid his initial bills.”

“Maybe it’s because I am Ghanaian- hospitable as ever” He added dryly

She was growing annoyed. “You caused him to be here. You made him have a heart att-“

“O Stop whining. See how enormous he is. This was bound to happen. Especially with his collapsing media station”

“I was about to go on the evening news!”

Michael paused. “O, selfish much?”

Kuukua fell silent and watched Michael walk away.


Inspector Ashitey was extremely annoyed.

Yes, he should have informed Sandra when Olivia arrived.

Yes, he should not have been hasty to ran out and make arrests.

Yes, he should have given orders for Olivia to be detained.

But what Olivia said about the Minister and Cudjoe arguing over a house help couldn’t be ignored. After all, the minister had died from knife wounds. It could have been a knife from her house.

And he was right. There was a knife missing from the set in the kitchen. Two house helps were also missing: the Chef and previous driver, Musa who was supposed to pick his last pay check but never did.

He had fled the office of the Special Agent when she begun throwing heavy items at his head. Now, she was requesting to see him. He was terrified.


Kuukua looked at the notification her phone. It was message from Michael.

He had finally responded to her many messages and phone calls. She unlocked her phone to see a video from Michael. It was video of Michael with a woman. He sat in a chair across the woman who seemed somehow deeply distraught.

The woman was the minister.

Michael had sent his interview with the Minister to her.


“Madam, you asked to see me?”

“Yes, Inspector. Please prepare a press conference briefing. Mr. Cudjoe Ashitey has confessed to killing the Minister.

Hope you enjoyed this episode! Let me your comments! See you next week.

Who killed Korkor?

Episode 4: BAD MEN

Welcome back! If you just joined us, this a murder story series where readers get to determine who the murderer is. You can find episode 12 & 3 here. Don’t forget to leave a comment!

Thank you Sam 🙂

Hon. Desmond Kweku Agyemang fell backward from his chair in surprise. Korkor was dead?

They had been political enemies albeit from the same party. Well, he hated her but he was not sure she even knew or cared. That was Korkor.

He was abashed that when he had worked out all the ‘procedures’ it took in their party circles to secure the position for designate  Minister of Security – this young naïve and entitled girl swooped in from literally nowhere for that position. Noone within the political circles knew her well and he begun nursing anger at the party superiors: his hard-won investments into this thing called politics was almost immeasurable; moving his family from the States, emptying his investments & savings accounts, dashing his hard earned money to leeches who were also somehow important in creating the political hype. He was not supposed to speak against his own ‘people’ – it was a common rule that as a party, unity was demanded no matter what. The opposition was always wrong – no matter how good their agenda may be. So he had to keep his misery within. He had nursed it as his accounts went into red and his wife demanded to leave the country. There wasn’t even money for a plane ticket- not to talk of the first class she was asking for. 

Being only a lawmaker was not the plan he had. He wanted to be Minister. He would have even settled for deputy. He just wanted to a chance to be in Ministry.

Sometimes, he couldn’t bear that he had left so much behind to come to help his homeland.  He had left his U.S citizenship and prominent status of Chair of his State’s Security for a dream to change his homeland. He was expecting to be handed the position of Minister of Security. He was overqualified and could do the job better than that girl. 
But to placate him, he party superiors had put him on the National Security Council. Watching Korkor that close, with a blank look on her face and fumbling only made him more furious.

“Politics is a lifetime agenda, boss”

Caleb’s words came back to him. Caleb knew very well what the Honourable was struggling to understand and adapt to the politics of the country.

Caleb was the driver for the MP, but he didn’t like his job. He wanted more. He believed he deserved more. After all, he had not gone to university to acquire a first class degree in Political Science and later a Masters in Public Policy and Law to be a driver for the very kind of person he wanted to be. It is not that he didn’t try, he did. He did run for various positions: departmental president, SRC secretary and later on President, all which he didn’t win. He tried to join the political parties on campus but for some reason, he wasn’t taken seriously. Caleb believed it was because he didn’t have money and a powerful family name. He was humiliated then, but now ready to fight back. 
For this reason, he hadn’t yet married devoting his time and energy to infiltrate, to turn these entitled pricks against each other. 
He knew exactly how the MP felt like: the personal embarrassment and dissipated hope. Politics was not just a dirty game- it was one for the brave-hearted. He wasn’t surprised to see the Honorable cry the day the appointment list was released. The party superiors had taken his boss’s money and chopped it freely.

Caleb waited for the bitterness to rise in the MP before he offered to spy on the new minister for the MP.  “Just to find out who she is, Honourable.”

 But Caleb eventually climbed into her circle, with the ready mission to sabotage her to get her off her seat in the next reshuffle. Then the thought came to him that he could make money and humiliate these ‘national servants’ at the same time.

That is why he worked hard to know  Korkor’s secret. 

Cudjoe hadn’t said anything the entire drive home. Maybe because the new driver was with them. He had started work last month after Musa, the previous driver showed up drunk the 3rd time in a month. Korkor had fired him quickly because she didn’t want Cudjoe to find out. Now sitting in the car beside him, she could feel Cudjoe’s muscles tightening further.  Its intensity threatened to suffocate her already. She knew Cudjoe would explode the moment they were alone and Korkor was dreading it. As she climbed out of the car in their garage, she thought she saw the driver cast a sympathetic glance her way. Cudjoe had already climbed out and walked to their bedroom without looking back.

Her stomach sank as she tarried in the living room, fiddling with the AC remote. She put it down and walked to the kitchen. She wasn’t hungry but she willed herself to pour water in the kettle and switch it on. She began making a sandwich, ignoring the neatly prepared ones Chef Adansi had placed in the fridge when her phone rang.

It was her mother.

“Adelaide, what was that all about?”

She sighed deeply, “Mum, it was nothing”

“What do you mean nothing?”

“Does your husband not understand or respect that you are a Minister of this country?

“Korkor sighed as her mother went on.

“I mean what he did was unacceptable! So embarrassing!”

“It won’t happen again Mum, in fact-“

“OH STOP IT Korkor!” Her mother’s voice was raised.  

She never called her Korkor unless she was really angered and it rarely happened. But it was bad when it happened. Her mother only called her Adelaide. Her mother almost never called her by her Ghanaian name.
Korkor recalled that last time her mother had been this angry. It was before her father died- when he had been recorded without his notice about a shady government deal. In the publicly released recording, her father implied a bribe request and her mother was furious for the shame and humiliation to her reputation.
She had screamed his Ghanaian name, right before throwing a paperweight on his study desk at his head. He dodged and Korkor had watched in horror as her mother reached for another before her father’s guards rushed into the room to stop her.

Korkor’s mother had gone on to fix the situation as she usually did- to fix the scandals of the topnotch, halting impending threats to the officials who could afford her. She almost always didn’t take money. Her mother preferred useful information, “relevant news is priceless” she would say. She would take insider information on emerging and international stock markets, secrets of royal families, the profiles of the rebel leaders in the African region and who their contacts were, the names of drug bosses and their families, the juicy jists on the social circles of the affluent in almost all the West African countries.

Korkor couldn’t begin to imagine how exactly her mother made money from the information she took, but she suspected it was a lot- she had once seen her mother wiring money into a Cayman Island account, a minimum deposit was a billion dollars.

That was when Korkor first realized she didn’t know her mother. Korkor also realized she was deeply afraid of her birth mother.

“Are you listening to me, Adelaide?”Her mother’s gasping anger had muted.

Korkor was glad that they were talking over the phone. “Yes

“There was a long pause.

Her mother sighed.

“I insisted that you shouldn’t marry that man. Why do you choose to do what you think is right?” 

“Is that why you didn’t come to my wedding?”

“Stop that nonsense. It has been 3 years and you know I saw everything.”

“Just like you saw everything this evening?”

“You can leave him or would you prefer for him to die first?”

Korkor gripped the butter knife she held harder. She couldn’t believe her mother had just offered to kill Cudjoe.

“Please don’t kill him” her voice was a whimper

“Then he’d do that to you first Madam Minister ” her mother sneered

The line went dead. Korkor stared at the phone and drank her tea slowly.

Who killed Korkor?

Episode 3: The Culprit

Welcome back! If you just joined us, here is Episode 1 and Episode 2. Do let me your thoughts and suggestions in the comment box. Happy reading!

Thank you Sam 🙂

“Mr Cudjoe Ashitey, we have eye witness report that you fought with the minister two different occasions: a week before and that night she died?
What was that about?”


Korkor was afraid. Her heart was in her chest the entire drive home. She knew what was coming.
Even in the car, she could see his fists clench repeatedly as he drove. The silence made it worse. It echoed his thoughts to her without having so much as to glance at her.
Why did you make me look like a fool?
Who is that Caleb man that took your hand to dance?
She sat in the car seat, holding her breath.
She glanced at him sideways as he changed gears.
Maybe he wasn’t mad.
Maybe it was all in her head.
She reached out to touch his hand resting atop the gear.
He moved it swiftly and it landed across her face.
The car skidded to the sidewalk as her face burned.
“Shut up!”
That’s when she realised she had begun sobbing.
“I said shut up!”
But she only wailed louder.
He got out of the car and walked to her door and opened it.
She looked up at him, a trembling mass of fury. He scowled at her and shouted “Shut up! I said shut up! Did you not hear me?”
He had reached for her hair and was pummeling her face. Punch after punch landed on her face and Korkor felt the crushing sting of each blow on her face. Her eyes begun to throb and her skin begun to burn from the impact.
He dragged her out by her arm and pushed her to the sidewalk with the overgrown grass.
He spat, “Don’t come home, do you hear me?! Go to Caleb’s house! Since you’ve decided to be with him and make me look like a fool!”

Cudjoe sat blankly, staring at his fists.
“My client and I would like to know for which purpose we are here. What are his charges?”

“He has been brought here for the purpose of aiding in the investigation of the death of Honorable Adelaide Korkor Ashitey who happens to be the wife of your client” Sandra hissed

The lawyer attempted to speak but Sandra cut him off.
“This is no ordinary case. I can assure you that as a highly classified case, national interest is much at stake here”
Cudjoe felt the stare of the woman on him. It seemed to burn his skin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“If I am not being charged, I should be let go” he muttered uneasily

Sandra took a file from one of the officers. “That’s Adelaide’s autopsy report” she choked

Cudjoe thought he saw her eyes glisten with tears but he wasn’t sure. Musa stood by her side watching him.

He looked away quickly and turned back again. Musa was gone. The lawyer looked at him questioningly.

Sandra didn’t notice. She seemed engrossed in the pictures of the body. She looked up at Cudjoe then the lawyer.

“Did your client ever not try to kill the Minister?”

“I did not!” Cudjoe shouted

“Really? So the bruises on her body likened to bodily assault?”

“Could be from the attacker” the lawyer interjected

“Coroner says they are a week old. Just like the ones on Mr. Ashitey’s hands”

The room fell silent.

Sandra continued, “We also found a slow poison in her blood. The kind that takes months before it kills and when it does, you can’t detect anymore”

“Let me see that.” The lawyer picked up the file and studied the report.

“This didn’t kill her” he commented

“No, it was the five wounds to her abdomen, repeated stabbing from what seems to be a kitchen knife. She didn’t resist- there were no signs of struggle. That means she knew her attacker.”

“I need time alone with my client” he announced

After Sandra and officers left, the lawyer turned to Cudjoe, “Did you kill her?”

Who killed Korkor?

Episode 2: Her Husband Did It

The story continues. Welcome to episode 2 of our murder story series, episode 1 is available here. Don’t forget to share and comment.

Those asking about the continuation of the series, I wish I could show you, it shall be finished- however I need your help in sharing with me some exclusive getaway spots across Ghana you have visited. It shall featured in the story.

Thank you Sam 🙂

“Good work done on the afternoon news Kuukua!”
Her boss rubbed her back ferociously, lingering a little too long. Michael, her demoted colleague cleared his throat loudly as their boss frowned at him and waddled out, pausing to turn sideways to get through the door.
“I am coming right now” he puffed as struggled to get out.
“So typical, so Ghanaian. Leaving the room but we say we are coming.” Michael smirked quietly
Kuukua watched him go and turned her attention to Michael.
“So how’d you like my news coverage?”
“Mmhm, it was good. I like how you pushed for more information from the policeman but..”
“But what?”
She leaned forward to catch his words. Her glasses blocked the gleam in her eyes. She loved how savvy Michael was. He was confident and experienced in the field, working his way steadily for 8 years to rise up to the evening news anchor position. But now he was on suspension for talking back to the director – it wasn’t supposed to be serious but the producers were all tired to his confidence and boldness, likening it to arrogance and disrespect. One team member only had to suggest for the others to enthusiastically agree to suspend him indefinitely.

“To teach him respect” they had proclaimed

Much as Kuukua was sad about what happened she was overjoyed. He had now joined her at her desk and gave her useful tips on how to get the best out of her first internship. Michael too enjoyed how the girl worshipped him: how she hung unto his every word, followed him to lunch and even offered to fill his water bottle from the dispenser in the hallway.

He had much more time on his hands and had already secured another job at a new TV station. No way he was staying in the place he was not valued.
He was just waiting for the month to end so his employment could be conferred and he could hand his resignation letter to that fat man, to imagine the sour surprise on his bottled face put a smile on Michael’s face.
“But what?” Kuukua repeated
“You were squinting”
“What do you mean?”

“You had your glasses on so the audience couldn’t read your expression, the glasses send a silent message that it is barrier of sorts”

“ERM I took them off but I can’t really see without it”
“Yes that was obvious. You were squinting almost immediately when you took them off. It looked like you were going to cry.”

“The sun was on my face”
“Do something about it- if you want to be a news anchor. Do you see any of us wearing shades or any glasses in the studio?”

” There was one man who used to read the news on the national station. He had glasses”

“That’s irrelevant” Michael snapped.
Kuukua was surprised.
The room fell silent

“Do you think she was murdered?”
“Of course she was murdered Kuukua. Didn’t you take a look a look at her body?There were knife wounds all over her abdomen.”
“Then her husband killed her right?”

Cudjoe slowed down at the ramp before his gate. The police were already there.
As he entered the compound in his car, he glanced through the rearview and saw Musa standing there as well.
He frowned and parked quickly, causing his car to jerk forward.

But he stayed in the car. Rejoice, the watchman came to the window almost immediately after closing the gate.

“Masha!” He greeted with a toothless smile and salute

” Yes?”
“The police dey here for you. They say, they wan ask you que-“

“Why is Musa here?”
“Musa?” Rejoice seemed confused. He looked where Cudjoe pointed.

“No Masha, that be my son o, he came for some money. He dey go now now”

Cudjoe stared at the young boy. Musa was gone.

“Mr Cudjoe Ashitey please do you know why you are in police custody?”
“I want a lawyer”
” Yes he is on his way here, but this is a serious issue. Do you know that?”

Cudjoe looked at the policeman speaking and lowered his head. The officer raised his voice then banged his baton on the table.
Cudjoe didn’t raise his head, instead he closed his eyes.
He was seeing Musa everywhere.

“Mr Cudjoe my name is Inspector James Ashitey. We believe in the early hours of this morning your wife was killed.”

Cudjoe lifted his head to look at the policeman in his tight uniform speaking. He paused to lick his lips.

“Because she was a senior Minister and for a delicate position like the country’s security, we have a lot of reason to be concerned as to what exactly happened.”

“Mr Ashitey do you know why you are in police custody?”

“I want a lawyer-my lawyer”
“Don’t worry he is on his way”

Cudjoe looked up at the Inspector.

The Inspector was looking at him with a warmth that startled him. Then he realised that it was pity.
He thinks I killed her

Inspector Ashitey cleared his throat.
“Because of how sensitive the case is, the BNI and National Security officials are here. They want to speak to you.”

The Inspector excused himself and a lady with two other men walked in. She was short and pimply. She walked with a manly gait and seemed to own the very room. There was odd presence about her that caused your skin to prickle. It was palable- even the officers behind her moved cautiously. Sandra was written neatly on a tag around her neck. Her uniform had many medals.

“I want my lawyer”
“And he is here” Sandra steely replied
“I want to see my lawyer”

Cudjoe repeated raising his voice.

“That’s fine. The President has a special interest in this case so please cooperate”

“The president sent you to handle this?” Cudjoe laughed harshly

Sandra’s face hardened and she reached out to caress his face, looking into his eyes with a coldness that stopped his laughter in his throat.
Cudjoe became afraid.
“I get the job done.”

Haven 5 <The dream broke >

Hi. I know it has been long. An apology is due. I am terrible at ending stories. So do let me know how well you like this ending!

I want to share two reveals. First of, I am excited to share info that the blog will taking some upgrades to make the experience, especially navigation and looks better.

Secondly, I am happy to announce that after Haven there shall be a post on a murder story. And you would have to figure out the murderer. I hope you like it when its put here.

This is the last episode of our series. I would like to hear how good this story has been so far so please leave a comment below. Thank you and happy reading.

Devon, did you know Kwame is married?

Devon looked at his little cousin. She seriously looked messed up. Not from the tangled hair, swollen eye and bandaged arm.

He could tell something was broken and off.

He sighed.

Maybe I should call Mugha for you?

Amy snapped up at him with wild eyes and begun shaking her head.

Shaking my head even hurts. Ugh

What happened to you A? You know you had be worried showing up here looking like this, and you won’t even talk…. Has Kwame got something to do with this?

Oh Devon please let this go

Amy talk to me. Please

She slowly got up, careful not to wince in front of him. He would probably lose it and force her to sit back down so they could talk.

Devon. I only want to stay here a few days.

He rose to his feet too.

Stay as long as want. But please tell me what is going on with you.

I don’t even know where to start-
There was a knock at the door and Devon opened it to find Djan with a pizza box.

You ordered pizza Amy?

Well not really

I asked Djan to help me get my car… I don’t know why he has that.

Djan smiled.

I thought you might be hungry.

He stepped in as Devon shut the door behind him.

Thanks Djan but I don’t think I can eat anything.

I can’t even get myself together.

So what happens to your favourite pizza then?

Djan holds up the pizza box in question.

Devon could you please put it in the fridge?

Djan honestly I can’t thank you for the thought. I will eat it when I get better.

Djan nods gently.

Well what can he say? Sweet and gentle Djan. Always there to listen. Always watching. Always helpful.

Okay. Thats great Amy but does that mean you won’t eat till then?

Devon quizzed.

Amy’s shrug didn’t seem to satisfy him but before he could begin a lecture on being healthy, Djan dropped Amy’s keys on the center table.

Your car keys, Amy. It is parked outside.

Amy forced a smile.


You have been more than good to me.

Actually, I ran into your former roommate from campus…

Amy’s smile dropped as Djan struggled to recollect.


Amy looked away.

She seemed pretty upset.

More like super pissed.

Djan thanks for everything. I do have to rest.

Amy limped into the bedroom as Djan watched her worriedly. Devon noticed Djan’s expression.

You like her don’t you?

Djan shakes his head.

Nothing to be ashamed of. My cousin is a good girl. Where did you meet her?

Djan smiled

Back on campus. We took classes together from first year.

Devon burst in laughter.

Dude! And you never said anything for that long?!


Amy couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t lie on the bed. Her hurting body and thoughts running wild wouldn’t let her.

She carefully dropped herself unto the floor and propped her back against the corner wall.

A moan escaped her lips as pain shot through her banadaged arm.

Damn. Mugha really did take her Tae Kwondo seriously.

Her phone begun to buzz. Truecaller identified the number as Kwame’s.

He was the last person she wanted to speak to. Maybe to Mugha, she would have to explain things to her.

But what would I say?

Hi Mugha. I am sorry I didn’t know you married Kwame after uni. He and I were in high school together, before I met you. Kwame of my high school dream. I had no idea the Kwame you spoke over the phone as the cheat of a husband was the same Kwame I was weak for.

I’m sorry you had to find us like that. I am sorry you don’t believe me to be speaking the truth. I am surprised as you are.

Because just like you, we both didn’t know who Kwame is. My high school dream of a love isn’t true.