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THE SOBOLO NIGHT

It was 9:00pm on the dot. Seated next to me; with a happy face, was a cruet; from which life flowed.

Leaving me with no option, I self medicated with the second bottle of ‘Sobolo’ which was prepared and savored from the handpicked red flowers of Agyeiwaa and her mother.

I couldn’t help but absorb and engulf the extract strenuously dripping from the bottle covered in ice. Appreciating its zest, i handclaspped the bottle a couple of times. The ice, in recognition, dissolved in bits giving way to this liquid filled with life and goodness.

Sobolo, selected from the choicest of cellars granted our ancestors victory in every war they fought. Solobo is the drink that can ease your pain and wipe your tear away. Sobolo is the drink that can fill your belly with the relish of not seeing eye to eye with junk food. Sobolo can detoxify and drive out any uncleanliness just by the sound of the name. Sobolo can infiltrate the depths of your thoughts just to bring out the real you – hidden deep.

Then the story began, I remember telling her- Agyeiwaa, why i wanted be a psychologist in the coming years; just because the drink had changed my mood. This drove her to probe in her memories, recollecting her proclamation of being a neurosurgeon at a very tender age. I couldn’t help but concurrently look at a picture of Dr. Ben Carson smiling, on the wall of the living room.

Just a touch of my bottle jolted her memory, zooming her mind’s scene to how helpless she had been when she had lost a colleague of hers. – Her friend was rushed to the hospital after she had briefly lost consciousness during a hike. At the hospital, she was diagnosed of a brain pathology, which needed surgery. However she passed on because her savior had not yet been born. Out of pain, she decided to be a neurosurgeon with the utopia of preventing such occurrences.

I wont go into details of how she found her profession in a field far from medicine.

The trigger of this conversation was not induced by the Solobo, desperately trying to gain access to my brain, vainly using my vein as a train. It was just the intuition of noticing a good writer when you see one.

I was of the firm belief, any skill that was mastered automatically became a talent. All that mattered was the doorstep, that paved way, as she raced to the finish line in attaining her passion.

Introducing the concept of the ‘lizard brain’ which i had picked up some days ago, I dived into the deep sea, trying to extrude the writer in her. “The lizard brain is the reason we are afraid, the reason we don’t do all the art we can, the reason we don’t write when we can. The lizard brain is the source of the resistance.”

With the Sobolo glaring right at us, we had already switched topics to psychology, after she made reference to a talk, given by a health care professional in her school. According to her, it was assumed 9 in 10 persons suffered from mental illness of a sort, which Agyeiwaa found so hard to believe. With the aid of a Venn diagram, i tried to find the intersection between her assumption and my conclusion. They were disjoint!

It was a glorious opportunity to enlighten her on the diverse mental health disorders, from a very competent lecturer bearing my name. She found herself taking a personality quiz in the end.

It was then, i was notified of the colour in my eye – Sobolo was making me cry. I turned off the tv and slowly retreated to the room, happily ever after with my new found love – Sobolo.

Sobolo is a Ghanaian drink, usually prepared with Bissap flowers. It is known to have a vast array of health benefits.

Drink Sobolo for a healthy tomorrow. In case you cannot locate a nearby vendor, contact me for your priceless Sobolo 🍷 at a very affordable cost; trust me, your life wouldn’t never be the same again.

What ever you believe, you can achieve – with Sobolo!

Picture of Agyeiwaa, the boy and another boy.

Watch this space for her new blog 👀.

Thanks for reading! A Solobo inspired story.

Eliezer

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