DON'T BE CHICKEN-HEARTED.BRING BACK OUR GIRLS

DON’T BE CHICKEN-HEARTED

BRING BACK OUR GIRLS

Over 200 defenceless girls

Have been inhumanely abducted from their schools

By a bunch of disoriented and mentally-thirsty religious militants

Who sadly claim they’re fighting against western education.

Of what significance is this act of cowardice

When the girls had no say in the setup of the educational system?

Ooh deluded sons of Africa!

Why fight vehemently against the spoon that feeds you

Yet, widely open your toothless mouths to the content of the same spoon?

Why resort to faceless acts of killing sprees and abductions

When you know your victims are fragile and can barely defend themselves?

Whom are you hoping to convert

When you’re happily slaughtering the same people you intend converting?

You have eyes

Yet you can hardly see beyond your eyelids

You have balls between your legs

Yet you behave like headless cockroaches on heat

You have faces

Yet you hide behind unblushing masks

You have heads which should contain brains

Yet they have become unwanted burdens to your necks

I do not practice and do not know much about Islam

Yet I know one thing for sure

That Prophet Mohammed would never ever

Condone these chicken-hearted activities.

You ignorantly claim you’re resisting Western education

Yet you people are operating with vehicles, guns and other equipments

Which are direct products of the same Western education you’re fighting.

If you have a point to prove

Use your brains to prove that point

If you have a statement to make

Use your ink to do that

If you want to bring a change to your society

Start with your ideologies

And desist from acts that will make your holy prophet,

Prophet Mohammed turn and weep in his peaceful grave.

Be real men

Stop being chicken-hearted

And bring back our fragile girls!

TO MY DEAR MAMA ON MOTHER'S DAY

TO MY DEAR MAMA

ON MOTHER’S DAY

Dear mama

I wish I could also join others to celebrate you

I wish I could also call you on Mother’s day

To wish you a happy mother’s day

Like others are joyously doing.

I wish I could buy you a gift

To express my utmost appreciation for how wonderful you’ve been.

But sorry I have to disappoint you mama

I’m sorry I have to be silent

And weep in my heart of hearts

On a remarkable day like Mother’s Day.

I’m sorry I have to hide in my closet

And kneel on my knees

While I silently wail and pray

For the mothers of the over 200 girls

Who have been callously abducted in Nigeria.

Of what use is a smile on your face

When other mothers just like you

Who also deserve the same smile

Weep and go through boundless emotional pains daily?

I wish I could compose myself

And feign as if all is well

Just to put a smile on your pretty face.

Yet no matter how hard I tried to be a hypocrite

The more my emotions betray and break me down.

I thank you very much from within

For all the great virtues you’ve imbibed in me.

I thank you for being there for me at all times

I thank you for being the sacrificial mother you’ve always been

I love you

But sorry my broken spirit and grieving emotions

Aren’t allowing me to wish you a happy mother’s day.

Though my heart is heavy

I still want to you to know one thing is for sure

That I love you and I’ll always do

I love you mama!!!

CRAWLING @ 57

CRAWLING @ 57

We have come far

57 long years after independence is no mean journey

Dr Kwame Nkrumah gained us independence from colonial rule

But after his uncharitable removal from office

Ghana has traded her independence for porridge served in a Chinese bowl

After 57 years of independence

We still find ourselves in needless economic and mental yokes and shackles

The Dubais and the Saudi Arabias were once dry desert lands

Yet today, with just one major natural resource

They have transformed their dry lands into paradises

We have gold, bauxite, manganese, diamond and other minerals

We have vast tracts of arable land at our disposal

We have the sea and other water resources

With crude oil in addition

Yet as the legendary Robert Nesta Marley put it

‘In the midst of abundant water, the foolish man is thirsty’

After 57 years of independence

We still cannot feed ourselves squarely

We are in dire need of everything

From common sewing needles and threads to ordinary toothpicks

We can barely do anything on our own without foreign assistance

Except for rigging of elections

After 57 years of independence

IMF still instructs us on how to manage our own economy

After 57 years of independence

We still prefer foreign currencies to our cedi

After 57 years of independence

Majority of the products we consume in our land are made in China

After 57 years of independence

Water and electricity supply remains a right for the ruling class

But to the populace, they are costly luxuries

After 57 years of independence

We still want to adopt genetically modified foods

When tonnes of foodstuffs are constantly getting rotten in the hinterlands

Series of governments have emerged after Dr. Kwame Nkrumah

But instead of carrying on with the vision of Nkrumah

Their major focus has been on how to stay longer in power

Life they say begins at 40

Yet at 57 years Ghana is still a crawling adult

Who begs and depends on her neighbours for every single thing

The Indonesias and Singapores whom we started life with

Have matured into grown ups

Who are standing firm on their feet

And even assisting other nations to be self-sufficient

Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah

You really fought hard for independence from colonial rule

But those who came after you are fighting harder and harder

To return the nation to colonial rule

The mental and economic freedom you won for this nation

Has been auctioned to the highest bidder by your successors

Weep in your grave Osagyefo, weep!

For the nation you left on its feet

 Is now an adult crawling at the age of 57!!!

YOUR CHURCH IS NO LONGER OUR HOME

YOUR CHURCH IS NO LONGER OUR HOME

We carried our burdens to your men on duty,

With high hopes of being unburdened.

We sung our hearts out in worship,

And outstretched our voice boxes in praises.

We clapped our feeble hands

Like drunkards in wonderland.

We jumped and rolled,

Danced and danced from our heart of hearts,

Fasting and praying in sky-high expectancy,

Like tilapia in labour.

We walked in with our bleeding hearts

And expected to walk out with dimples on our cheeks.

Yet, we got in and returned with puzzles and mazes on our faces.

Countless nagging questions have plagued our minds of late.

Are we really in your church,

Or are we at a hip hop concert?

We can hardly finger out any difference.

Are we in your house

Or are we at an auction ceremony?

Because it appears the highest bidders

 Get the best prayers and spiritual direction from your men on duty.

Sermons of repentance and salvation are now silent.

Instead of teaching steps to Your kingdom,

All we’re being thought are ’10 steps to prosperity’,

‘9 ways to identify witches’,

And ‘8 declarations to destroy our enemies completely’.

The poor and aged hardly get into close contact with your men on duty.

Your men are now fashionable celebrities,

With oily jerry curl hairstyles and customized range rovers and jaguars cars.
Those who once upon a time were as dark as Kunta Kinte when You called them,
Have gradually become as bright as Michael Jackson at 50.

Your 12 disciples drew believers closer to you,

Yet your men on duty in the 21st century have muscular bodyguards

Who even scare the Holy Spirit out of your congregants.

Your church should have been our home

Whenever we felt homeless and needed someone to talk to.

It should have been a place of solace

When our weary spirits could no longer carry on.

Instead, we’re being overwhelmed with fees and charges,

 From consultation fees,deliverance fees to emergency prayer fees.

Dear Jesus,

We came to seek You in Your church,

But, Your men on duty have made us aware,

That Your church is no longer our home.

YOU CAN'T MAKE OLD FRIENDS

YOU CAN’T MAKE OLD FRIENDS

Life’s journey is a marathon

Not a 100-meter dash

We all start as toothless crawling infants

But end up on the ladder with diverse positions

Some end up high up the crest

While others persist to struggle at the base

Just to nail a position on the ladder

We grow up not as islands

But with friends whom we pick up along our paths

Some with positive influences

While others come along with strangulating effects

Some fall off as we grow and rise on the social ladder

While some cling to us when even when we’re nobodies

In the midst of all these

One thing stands for sure

That as moths to flames

So does success attract countless plastic friends

Friends who’re ready to slide with you

When there is enough oil under your feet

But will be nonexistent when your oil runs dry

But like old wine in a new bottle

Old friends always taste better

Fortunes will come and will disappear

But with time, they can be made again

The Ghana cedi will rise against the US dollar for a brief moment

And fall against it for longer periods

Yet with time, it can be made to rise again

You can attract new friends and praise-singers with your wealth

You can appeal to bootlickers and sycophants with your fortunes
As you continue to meet new people as you journey through life

Do your best to stick to old friends

No matter how poor or wealthy they may be

Irrespective of how high you’re catapulted on the social pyramid

Or how deep your pockets may be

Always bear one thing in mind

That you can’t make old friends…