Village boy Impressions

Beware of using the road in Tamale Elsewhere you look left, look right And left again, then cross briskly Not here, not in Tamale. Here you look left look right Look back look front look sideways And begin all over again You do it once you do it ten times You’re still no nearer to finding space No one stops here no one pauses For another to use the road Not even if you were a centenarian On three legs or a toddler at the crèche   The motorbikes are the real menace Right way wrong way Walkways sideways Way behind you way across you  Way in front way all round you Like butterflies in a flowering field All other road users are in their way Pedestrians are but sheep Walking mindlessly across the way Motorbikes  cannot stop for sheep Even to use a zebra crossing When the cars stop for the sheep The motorbikes will run you over Asking if you were a zebra And double curse you In heathen tongues!   Everyone is in our way Even the s...

At home, the fires are in the fields Licking up twigs, herbs and every blade of grass Leaving a bleak blackness everywhere The fires eat the land at home   They came one day in the heat of noon while men rested Racing through the cornfields And licking through the rice farms, The sorghum , soya , and late millet The fires eat the land at home How sad a thing to hear the wailing of women And the mournful sighs of grown men, Calling on the gods to save them From this monster of their own making The fires eat the land at home!   Analim stands in the middle of his field With his two sons, sweating from the heat His hands on his head, in despair Frantic efforts with neem branches and buckets of water Could not save their burnt crop The fires eat the land at home The women are weeping mournfully, If only tears could quench the blazing fires But alas, the ancestors and the gods are silent  And the flames of hell have broken out E...

Oh blessed of days that did break!  When God appeared in form of man,  To suffer worldly scorn for love’s sake How shall we celebrate your breaking?   He left lofty throne and palace above,  To wear our very human frailty,  And bear the pains of abject penury;  That He may cheer a gloomy world.  How shall we celebrate Your Name?  Oh creator God turned creature,  To bear the affliction of Your creation,  Rejected, despised and reviled by same;  And yet turn not from bitter cup to drink  Nor bid Your just vengeance to rise,  But looking through Mercy’s eyes,  Did forgive all with bountiful love.  Clap for joy all you verdant creation. Mosses and giant oaks, sway in dance! He who in brilliant green did cloak you, In humble form comes to play in your shade, And your perishable fruit with relish to eat. Sing out you sullied streams of the land! Who with crystal clear w...

It was a small room about three or four square meters in size and with nothing to sit on but the bed. The man himself and a small boy who came from the school with me were lying on the linoleum-covered floor. The man motioned me to the bed, partly shielded by a curtain and I sat on the edge of it. The roof was leaking right at my feet and he placed a tin bowl there to collect the drops.  I would have liked to look around the room but it felt disrespectful to get too curious about my benevolent host’s domestic space. At first, I was uneasy about being in a strange room in a faraway village where I could not speak a word of the language. After a few minutes, however, I chided myself for being stupid. Villagers are typically decorous towards their children’s teachers and it is probably the same courtesy that they were extending to me. How could I meet such a kind gesture with suspicion and mistrust? I, therefore, looked up at my host and smiled. He returned my smile and said a few wor...

It was my first visit to the Nkwanta North district and it began like any other day. My mission: to support other members of the Lively Minds Technical Team to set up the GES Lively Minds Programme in the district. We were at the stage of Training of Mothers popularly called ToM. At 7am, we left the hotel and drove into the town to get breakfast. When the cars stopped, one of my colleagues walked over to our car and informed us that those in the first car were going to eat fufu but he wanted porridge. Fufu at 7:00am? I asked. Interesting. "But there is also waakye and ‘raster’ porridge," he added. I told him I had taken a cup of coffee and I had an apple in my handbag. The driver burst out laughing. “Hahaha!! We’re talking of food and you say you have an apple?” We all laughed. Everyone eventually bought some food and the fufu team returned to report that it wasn’t ready. So we drove to the education office to meet the district team (DT) and begin the day's work.  I me...

  My heart leaps at the sight of the meadows! The warmth of the breeze heals, The fragrance of budding flowers stirs, The blended notes of birds and insects, Refreshes and cheers my drooping soul, I am enthused by the very mud I trod And the sight of fields in bloom Sends the blood to warm my cheeks.  Land of many colours and contrasts; Desert of dusty brown in off-season; Battered black and broken with wind and fire.  But with the rains in their time,  Yonder before us lie verdant valleys Endless stretch of wood and grassland, Amid which countless streams run, Sparkling in the sweet morning air!  In cultivated fields, women and men, daily Rejoice in the dignity of their labours, Children hop and play around every homestead, With unfeigned delight and innocence. Herds of lumbering cattle graze across lush plains And what a delight to the eye to behold Every flower and blade of grass with pleasure,  Enjoy the very air they draw! When in sweet contemplative s...

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 s oon enough,  The rains will be gone And we will Hurriedly, Call our cronies, To inflate the contracts And ensure the kickbacks. Or vote a new IMF loan, To procure the sham, And patch up the scam. This is just Business As Usual  Job for the boys. Tamale 31/08/2022

Where are the showers?  That should be greening the fields?  The rains should be here A good month since.  Where is the morning dew?  We should be turning the soft loamy earth, planting seeds, tending the offshoots, looking forward t o the harvest already. Instead, we are trapped in this  rainlessness, this heat, and  lifeless brown.      Where is the new grass? that should be returning the cows, t o health and freshness? Where is the new saplings, That is the delight of the sheep and the goats? It is not lateness  when the fields  are brown in June. It is not lateness, w hen the stream is dry in August  It is the fightback, t he revolt of an ailing Earth.  The rainmaker is sick;  exhausted  from our plunder, our exploitation, our g nawing, burning, breaking,  pumping, dumping… From all of our greed. All of our poison!  Droughts where once were floods Floods where once were deserts And everywhere, are D...

I dig the earth for my saab and wokta. And for the sweet intoxicating pito, I tender the sorghum to maturity. Daily, I commune with the land, turning it gently with my little hoe. For there is no higher delight than tending things that grow;  no smell more exciting,  than that of boiling pito; no sight more pleasing  than that of new green,  and colourful blossoms,  in the sweet morning sun!  This was my life, my work, my joy. And for many ages, good old weeds  and late rains were my daily song.  So we lived in peace and quiet;  this land and I each for the other  in unending consonance. Then they sent a sudden death  nicknamed "Condemn", and plastered it over the growing green. It found its way into backyards and little rivers, poisoning the cowpea and the okra, and shriveling the sesame tendrils. All that was green and good  failed at their promise. It is death to all, this "Condemn".  Soon, I'll have no weeds to cut, an...

The sun is shining in all brilliance and delight Doing his very best to spread life and cheer Flamboyant blossoms hasten to welcome him Spilling sweet aromas in their joyous haste The little birds and crickets raise a song And all the crawling creatures beneath Join in the happy  chorus.    Rocks on distant hills Echo the melodious tune The warming air breezes softly Whispering sweet tidings to the world The listening trees and grasses,  tickled in deep places sway in gentle dance, And now the sun itself stands still To take in the sights and the sounds.   Have you read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Joys of Mother Africa   Deep in the lustrous jungle,  the lions roar, the rhinoceros charge, zebras bray and fray, giraffes stretch out long necks, to glimpse the wonder  and the beauty, and laughing rivers run on. Only we, the idle masters, Impervious ingrates Oblivious of the promise and the praise, Drool on in slumber, sadly. Up from your bed...