Do we need ancestral heads to understand
The lyrics in this patriotic song of ours?
“Yɛn ara asaase ni
ɛyɛ abuↄ dendene ma yɛn
Mogya na nananom hwiee gu nya de too hↄ ma yɛn
Aduru me ne wo nso so
Sɛ yɛbɛ yɛ bi atua so“
If blood, precious, were poured to attain this for us
And our time is now to show but no show
And we put on clothes of selfishness
Clothes of “over knowings”
Clothes of corruption,
Then what do we do with the weeping red blood
From the hot old graves?
What do we do with the hovering short lived
Spirits without bodies to live?
Have we lost shame and consciences for guilt?
How many of us do not shout
When kitchen knives help us
See three drops of our blood?
“⊃man bɛyɛ yie a
Na efiri me ne wo
⊃man bɛyɛ yie a
Na efiri yɛn ara”
I, like a patriotic nightingale, sing
But the moral in the song whips me mercilessly
How can I help?
How can you help?
How can we help?
Since a carpenter cannot build words
And a driver cannot drive nations
I guess we need us and us in what we do
And we need capitalized discipline to drive our cause
As servants serve selflessly,
Let the bosses boss wisely
To help the lyrics in this song close their mouths
Gulp some cool water and rest in satisfaction
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015