Tuesday, 9 April 2013

YEEEEESS NKATIE!

YEEEESSS……NKATIE!
Yeeeesss…… Nkatie!
Yeeesss….. Nkatie!!
Yeeeesss nkati shew!!!
That is her melodious chorus every blessed day
She goes east and then west
Climbs south, and descends to the north
Carrying her 8-month old baby on her already saddled back
Like a porter in the market of Asesewa
She trips about with her head pan stocked with roasted groundnuts
Sitting comfortably on her exhausted head
She combs through the scorching sun by day
And swims through the cold by night
In her desperate bid to attract customers for her ware
She treks miles on foot in torn slippers
And gets extensive makeups in sweat daily
But feels no pain nor shame
She bothers less about what people say
Neither does she pay any attention to what others think
The only fuel that keeps the little flame in heart blazing
Is that simple smile and the ‘Thank you mummy’
That she receives from her three bouncing toddlers
She has no ready money
Nor any other helper
All she does to put porridge and bread on her children’s table each day
Is to go out and about in the sun
With her head pan and roasted groundnut
 Trumpeting her usual chorus,
Yeeeeeeeeesssssss……..Nkatie!
Nkati shew!!!

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

INFANTS AND TODDLERS

INFANTS AND TODDLERS
She looked at me and smiled
With dimples on both cheeks
She took up her toys and run out the door
Jumping and hopping in excitement
She goes out to meet up with the other kids in the neighbourhood
Who were running helter-skelter
They run up, they run down
They skipped and hopped
They laughed and giggled
They whispered and screamed
They tickled and teased each other
Licking cones of ice cream and lollipops
While dressed up in pinks and blues
They had no worries
They were ruling a world of their own
A world abundant in joy and excitement
A world where they only cried for attention
And wept only when their toys break
A peaceful and pleasant world where every adult wished to be
A world devoid of stress and strenuous hustle
Once upon a time, I sailed through their world
But had no appreciation of it
Today, seasons have changed
My skin has thickened
My bones have hardened and elongated
I now have some things growing on my chin which I learnt was called beard
I have all I ever wanted while I was a kid
I have all the liberty I dreamed of while growing up
I have graduated out of my baby court into an orthopaedic bed of my own
 I look at the confusion and scorching pressures in my adult world
 And begin to envy the innocent and carefree world of infants and toddlers
I wish I could spend just a jiffy in their world
I wish I could get into their carefree state for just a second
I just wish I were in their shoes!
I really, really wish so

Monday, 25 February 2013

DUM-SOR,DUM-SOR

DUM-SOR,DUM-SOR
After decades of hustling in the hostile snow abroad
My battered spirit felt the need to go back home.
My depressed soul was yearning for my family and friends,
While my frozen black skin pleaded for some harmattan.
Joyfully and with boundless excitement,
I carried my home-sick self onboard a Boeing 787 Dreamliner,
With the charged expectation of going back
To a land of oil and gold
And the gateway to Africa!.
After five donkey hours in flight among the thunderous clouds,
The three back tyres of the metal bird finally kissed the runway of an airport.
I wondered where we were
Because all the lights along the runway were out,
With some lanky men holding lanterns along the runway to direct the airplanes.
Which jungle is this? I silently asked my confused self.
For once, I thought we were making a transit through the ancient Mali empire
Until my protruding eyes got arrested by a gargantuan signpost which read,
‘WELCOME TO KOTOKA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT’
Awurade…..! What a Shock!!
Twenty-first century Ghana?
What a wow…!!!
As confused and shocked as I was,
I managed to march my puzzled self through to the arrival hall.
That was when I realized my eyes have seen my back.
Hmmmmm…….!
The lights were all out at the arrival hall
With people busily going to and fro with the aid of the lights on their phones
As if they were hunting grasscutters at the airport.
I thought I had had enough until I came out of the airport.
What a way to welcome me back to the land of my birth!
It was 18:00 GMT but the day appeared as if it was mourning itself .
The whole place was in utter darkness.
Where are all the lights?
I tried to find out what was wrong
 And surprisingly, an elderly man told me it was ‘normal’.
I learnt it was called ‘LOAD SHEDDING’ or better still ‘DUM-SOR,DUM-SOR’
‘Dum-sor,dum-sor’?
I still did not get what that meant.
There and then, as if those in charge were trying to make me understand,
Brought the lights back on
And suddenly, the entire city responded with shouts of excitement,
‘Yieeeeeeeeeeeee……………..!!!'
As if the boxing legend, Zoom Zoom Azumah Nelson had knocked out an opponent.
Ei….!!.. What is this?
Just after a few seconds,
The lights went out again.
And the entire city responded again in disappointment,
‘Oooooo………..!!! ’
As if Asamoah Gyan had missed a penalty kick.
That was when I really got to understand the situation on the ground.
Twenty-first century Ghana, the gateway to Africa,
And electricity is being rationed like breast milk to a set quadruplets.
I dreamt of coming home to a land full of milk and honey.
But this is where I find myself.
A mighty land of candles and lanterns.
A land of electricity load shedding,
A land of Dum-sor,Dum-sor….!!!




Wednesday, 30 January 2013

THOU ART JUST A MAN


THOU ART JUST A MAN
When success smiles at you
And the world appears like a mere playing ground
Do not be carried away
When the spotlight beams on you
And pride and pomposity begin to ravage your soul
Just pinch yourself to reality and remind yourself, that
Thou art just a man
***
When your sweat and toils finally pay off
And your expectations finally become flesh
Forget not your roots
And those who held the ladder for you to climb atop
For no man was made an island
When silver spoons stick in your mouth
And gold becomes your bedmate
Always bear in mind it is just for this earth and for a moment
I have been young and now old
Yet I have never seen a casket with a wardrobe
No man born of a woman shall take anything away into eternity
When fortune gives u hug
Forget not the orphans and the destitute
The hunger-stricken family next door
Nor the Lazarus on the streets in your neighbourhood
A man’s wealth is measured not by what he has
But by the quality of life he brings out of others
Irrespective of the height at which success throws you
Always stick your feet on the ground
When pride begins to creep in when the applause is high
Do not forget to prompt your mortal self, that
Thou art just a man!