Village boy Impressions

From the east, a golden-sun  rises proud and majestic, Shining in all brilliance and delight. His rays strike with fierce-some joy Upon the bare brown earth, with Not a cloud in the heavens to stay them. Energy gushes forth in torrents, Birds, beasts, gods, and mortals Glow with vigour and intent . The Drums sound, the flutes call, The birds chirp, the doves coo, Goats and sheep, rams and bulls Bleat and moo in joyous ecstasy. Kids and calves bray and fray  Smoke rises from cooking places. It is Feok! A hallowed day, a merry day; Bubbly with contentment and laughter. Today we drink, and we eat, We celebrate and  make merry And dance with grace and skill The rhythm of our land. Like one mighty beating heart, The land throbs with graceful steps. The hills ring with voices of song As we recall the valour and skill, The courage and strength, And the charity of our fathers, Who rose against the cowardly Babatu an d his marauding beasts; And slew an

The rains are now a distant memory; All that was green now a dusty brown  Over the hills and vales, and  through every crack and crevice, the dusty gusts rummage. The land, is blanketed by a chilly fog of dust, stirred by persistent long drafts, The mighty Harmattan. That leaves the streams thirsty, kisses dry lips bloody, cracks heels and soles sore,  makes dry tunnels of our noses, stretches our skins taut dry, making a bruise thrice as painful, a playful pat on the back quite a punishment to giver and receiver,  and dashing the foot against a stone  brings tears to the eyes of a grown man. Yes, that's the Harmattan!  The north wind that sweeps the land; bringing the flu, the cough, and the cold. Sends us all to bed sooner, and wakes us later, makes the children skip bathing,  and our mothers conceive sooner, yes, that's the Harmattan. What shall we give to appease your chill? Tattered sweaters on bony frames and early fires from every compound, men, women and children gather

It was not night  or even twilight  but at blazing noon that they came; Men with guns   like gangsters in American films  rode up, and opened fire!  Up into the open air and all around  bullets flew.  People screamed in agony,  blood flowed in the street,  the police officers across the road  did not wait to call for backup  but went straight over the wall  running for dear life.  cry the beloved Buluk!  In majesty, they strolled into Adabiak and helped themselves to cash and goodies. Armed thieves have taken us captive in our own town and neighbourhood Armed tugs rape our land and people, Must we stand like sheep? Cry the beloved Buluk! Protest we did we the youth out in rage and they called us names and took us to court that we did not seek permission.  cry the beloved Buluk! Tell me, you black sheep! conspirators in our rape,  partakers in iniquity. Did these thieves seek permission,  when they stopped us on the road  and took our monies and goods? When they stalked us by day, went

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as t

Why are there so many derogatory comments for a girl? Bitch, ho, slut, thot, whore! Why is my worth found in my vagina? Why am I valued by how many I've lain with?   Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Unsung Heroines   Why is it wrong to be alone? Why is marriage seen as my end goal? Why am I insulted when I want no marriage? Why am I only seen as female when I marry? Click to Read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Kayayei's Tale Why is my worth, dictated by my children? Why am I less if I have none? Why is my son considered my child? I have a daughter here, does she not qualify? Why are my children mine when they are bad? Are they not their father’s too? Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Fathers   My sister, we live in a special kind of place Say no more about this age There is no peace for a woman here Nor can joy be found anywhere near Maybe, we’ll find them in a world Where there is no man Until then, endure this hell Death will come s

Pain, pain and more pain The loss of a gamble Listen and learn You who would like to gamble You who are ready to explore   I burn, oh I burn! With the flame of regret and pain And yet I cannot stop My feelings in debt It was time to gamble my heart away   Have You Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Beauty's Plight? Why did you not warn me of the cost? Why did you signal me to go on? To not care To borrow from merciless death It was time to gamble my sight away Let none say a word Let none see my despair Let my mask remain fixed An eternal smile of patience and peace A time it was to gamble my voice away   Read Here:  Village Boy Impressions - Serenade to my love Breaking hearts like vases I could have any but picked you Hollow eyes, bleeding tears of blood I was so taken Time it was to gamble my body away   Should I say? Nay. Silence is golden, endurance more so Let it not be said, I wavered at the end It was time to gamble my

Sunset on the High Plains of the  Mojave Desert  (courtesy: Wikipedia) When the body easily frails And breath suddenly shortens, When the joints can no longer hold Then you know that sunset dawns. Have You Read:  To the Lily ? When those silky strands refuse to Sprout, leaving a fine circumference Of parched land on the head. Then you know that sunset dawns.   When nature takes his stencil and Without mercy designs those familiar lines Leaving streaks of lightening on the face, Then you know that sunset dawns.   Read Here:  The Wailing Bride When the mamba well placed in The very centre of the garden Can no longer rear its head to eat An apple, then you’re sure that sunset dawns.   When those once bulgy glands That brought joy to daddy and baby Now stress, shrivel and sag Then there’s no doubt that sunset dawns.   Village Boy Impressions - When the Sun Shines in Bergen The morning seemed unending. The ultra-rays almost indefinite. W

Oh bright and innocent Lilium, Why do you wail in the mountain breeze?  Golden Splendour, scented Robina, Why envy the crimson-rose?  Think not of them,  You also have your shine. Behold the sun outshines all And all life hasten to greet his awakening.  Yet it is the moon, the lesser light  That makes the cripple hungry for a walk!  Village Boy Impressions - The Joys of Mother Africa How you degrade yourself, fairest lily, And do the sons of Adam an injustice.  Though they be beguiled of the sun by day, They soon seek the shade of the huge baobab To escape even his charm and grandeur  But of the moon, it is not told  That they tired nor sought rest.  Village Boy Impressions - Moonlit Nights As the day makes way for the night,  So does the sun for the moon, And long into the watches of the night, The village is bathed in her glorious splendour, Charmed by her joyous beams Intoxicated with her beauty. Only when she grows shy and hides her grin  Do they, at last, seek their happy mats  An

I was happy when the long Awaited rain started pouring. But the soft shower soon matured Into a strong fearful storm. I saw the roofs ripped apart by the Horrendous winds that blew. Like a Gazelle in search of water I run in search of the Crag Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Hustler in Accra   Glad I was to see the sunshine. Before long the warm friendly planet Had grown into a sulfur furnace. Soon enough the burning heat set My frock on fiery, fatal, flames. Turning my flesh into roast beef I rent my clothes in fright And flew in search of the Crag Read Here:  Village Boy Impressions - Televised News in Ghana   Then I saw the kinsman’s hut That seemed so hale and hearty. I was weak but I knocked and kicked Until the door seemed to open. But where was the headman? He was gone, gone, never to return. Strange eyes stared ferociously at me So I sped in search of the Crag  Have you read:  Village Boy Impressions - Vipers? Then I saw the

On  the wall in my backyard, In the shade of the tall tree in flower Round and round the trunk, up and down A she-lizard dances with her mate. My heart rolled back the years Till I stood by the crags in childhood  Wide-eyed with a taut catapult in hand A roughly round pebble held ready to fly As we circled the rocks  in the noon sun. Read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Baobab Tree Agama, what a good sport! Swift, spirited and agile Just as good at swerving as Breaking suddenly in flight.  Quite a wonder and a challenge to us. But so also were we, the little cats Nimble of foot and deft with our shots. Driven by our little rumbling tummies; The constant nagging companions of our boyhood. Read:  Village Boy Impressions - A Tribute to Hunger Our favourite was always the landlord Blue-grey body, and yellow tail Red or orange head, so cocky Mocking us from your elevated post On the crags, roofs, high walls or tree branches, Defying our flying stones and curses.