Village boy Impressions

After months of dryness and despair  Sweet is the sound of rain on the roof Pools and puddles of water everywhere Blasts of moist air from the window Dusty Harmattan is a distant memory  Dark clouds dance across the sky Lulling the sun with globules of water It is May, The dew falls The land heals Life returns  The grass grows again Love is in the air And birds sing the creator's praise If there indeed be life in the hereafter And we be damned enough to return after Sweet God, let me be born again in May!

And the rains returned, Whilst men slumbered, Pouring all night long. And drop by drop, Globules of water Peeled off our cloak; Wiped our makeup; Uncovered our beauty, Our falsity, our sins. Shallow drains, Choked with our waste, Spilled their secrets Onto washed-out roads, Making running streams, Deep gullies and dicey paths. And with nowhere to go, Plundered our homes, And left us wailing.   All the sham is revealed, All the sleaze punished! But do we care? Do they care? Soon the rains will be gone And we will Hurriedly, Make the contacts, To inflate the contracts And ensure the kickbacks. Or vote a new loan, To procure the sham, And patch the scam. It is job for the boys. Tamale 31/08/2022