Village boy Impressions

When evenings in Sandema were dark, His footsteps on the road were heard, On journeys long with his Bible in hand, In Faith and works he showed the way. From Kori number 1 to number 2 both, From nearby Kobdema to far-off Kalijiisa, Across streams to Nyaansa and hills to Suwarinsa, A weary pilgrim on many treacherous roads. With girls and boys, men and women, With Roman Catholics and protestant folk, With those of faith and those without it, All their sorrows and joys he shared. A gentle voice, a helping hand, Knees that bleed from kneeling in prayer, A soft cackling laugh, with seamless teeth, The perfect listener, with limitless patience. Long upon an empty stomach he went, And defied both the devil and his lieutenants, His Bible and faith were his only staff, Upon them, he leaned and hoped and prayed.             Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Fathers Hail the man Jacob Adongo Atambilla, The son of Atambilla of Bongo Gorogo, Who today

Photo Credit: Franz Kröger Weeding the fields couldn't be more delightful!  Though backs are breaking in the noonday heat,  Palms blistering from gripping rigid hoe sticks,  Sweat trickling down the groins of labouring kinsmen,  And all their muscles are taut with effort,  The smell of dark loamy earth freshly upturned  Releases a singing trapped in the lungs of men.  Have you read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Matrimonial Dance The thrill of music banishes all weariness  And even the weakest muscle would gain  Momentum to break the moist earth with iron  Whilst hearts throb with the harmonious choruses;  Hymns that at once inspire, admonish, and entertain.  Chanting the village news as well as the secrets of men,  One is forced to pay as much heed as to work harder.  Every drop of gin sent coursing into half-empty bellies Lends leverage to even unwilling tongues And the sweetness of agreeable voices is released. Every deed of men is censured or eulo

Children dancing 'Nagela' in front of a compound. Photo Credit: Franz Kröger ( buluk.de ) When the harvest is all done and dusted  And the fields lie empty and desolate When the groundnuts are all plucked The Bambara beans dug up roots and all When all the sorghum in the field is felled And only sharp prickly remnants remain When tethering the goats is now ended And the boys gain such a relief As to sigh with gratitude bordering on piety Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Tethering Goats When the shepherds no more chase the sheep The cowherds no longer shout at errant bulls And the moon is happy enough To make the cripple hungry for a walk, Do we nightly gather before the house; Mothers, fathers, uncles, and aunts, Teens, children, toddlers and babies Brothers, sisters, nephews, and nieces With cousins, bastards and orphans too. There we tell many a tale and laugh Unrestrained juvenile squealing That rouses the sleeping chickens and ducks. W

Photo Credit: Franz Kröger All over the land of Buluk, over hills and fields  Where long grass grows and stout trees thrive   The trade wind comes racing, swelling about the trees   What news from the north, Oh hurrying wind?   What tidings do you bear in your dusty breeze?   Have you seen Azantilow the tall and mighty   By sun, moon or by starlight bright?   Where now is he, the bold, the ancient, the brave?   Maybe you have heard the horn of the son of  Ayieta.   Echoing in the hills and vales of the land Upon azagsuk , long I stood and listened Under the shade of acham I tarried in vain Tell me not that he is no more! But alas, his horn is silent, and his feet are cold The north wind is still, impotent with tears                             Read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Song of Atuga Towards akumcham ever shall I gaze There our foes fled in dismay Before its dying stump, ever I sigh Under its withered crown ever I wait, O, Ayieta b

Blest the bygone days of sweet remembrance, When childhood was innocence indeed. Moonlit nights were songs and dances And New Year treats were ‘alewa’. Colourful tongues told the story. Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Folktales The days when pito was the drink, And we only ate to quell hunger, A large protruding belly was our goal And the oily mouth, an envious sight. Only fun, food and friends mattered. Our teachers still taught us manners and prayers  And learning was its own reward  A holy curiosity to discover the secrets Of our environment drove us on To outshine the other in class was the prize. Read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Days of Bliss In homes were heard loud rolling laughters, Guests were welcomed with genuine smiles, In happiness, we celebrated all successes Burrying in sorrow and tears, our friends And aiding freely and willingly, those in need. But what do we have here now? An unchained ‘modernity’ of madness

Behold the light fades and rises not And the cute little stars hide in shame The moon fears to show her face And day and night become as one Here the heavens are shut up tight And the earth cries out in thirsting All that is lusty and green withers Have you read:  Village Boy Impressions - Loved at a Glance? The streams return to the mountains And the oceans pour out their eternal rage The darkness return from the abyss And the mountains explode in anger Burning all that was once green and fair Vipers come out in the day to hunt And the crows hold a banquet at noon Alas! the nations bare their teeth And the rulers rage in drunkenness Oh how kith devour kin And mothers drown their infants To entertain their nightly guests. All roads lead nowhere And the gardens turn into graveyards. Have you read:  Village Boy Impressions: Serenade to my love? No, my love, our love cannot die. For when all the love is gone, When we let it al

Photo credit: http://in-progress.org/research/ Science is a body of knowledge that prides itself on reproducible research information. Science is tentative and lends itself to change in the face of alternative independently verifiable information. However , science is not a feeling and not a belief. Although Science has stood against conservatism as witnessed in the days of Galileo and Co, it nonetheless has a screened liberalism. Much of what we know of science today is several years of cumulative change driven by research. And with advances in technology, the body of knowledge of science is on a constant revision. This revision, however, is not on the basis of individuals or groups assumptions of facts. Science in much of its communication on new findings employs modest expression such as “could have an association with”, “has the potential” etc. and shuns sounding authoritative. Skepticism and disputes of scientific findings are welcome. Such an enterprise should, however

Photo credit: liyouthsafetycoalition.org It is not uncommon to find derogatory expressions and remarks with the use of Tramadol on social media and other media of communication. The unfortunate trend must not be allowed to continue unabated. Tramadol is an FDA approved prescription drug for the treatment of moderate to severe pain. It is a mainstream drug in the country’s health system for the management of pain. For the drug to be associated with derogatory comments in everyday Ghanaian communication should be a cause of worry. Tramadol is a synthetic opioid drug and like other opioid drugs interferes with normal release of neurotransmitters, chemical mediators. This could lead to drug dependence and tolerance on continued repeated use. Drug dependence develops due to debilitating withdrawal symptoms and tolerance results when higher than normal doses are needed to elicit drug action. Affected individual thus need a continued and higher than normal doses of the drug for comf