Like plantain leaves

We roll up


Extend our hands to enjoy the weathers

And are heated to dry

As the tree of life shoots up

And generates new leaves


We are leaves

In the winds

In our newness

We dance

In our brown age

We fall


I pray new shoots

Live in their bloom

I hope their weathers

Come with suited feathers

I pray theirs heads

Get to hear

See and learn

To fence their breezes

Until their brownies break their resolves

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


I know

I know our eyes are other worlds

Worlds which keep other beings

Beings who are forced to sleep

When we shut them

And die when we fade in our mud



I know

I know our skins are other worlds

Worlds which hoard many a soul

Like a planet filled with pore beings

Who are forced to leave

When we get lost in our mud houses



I know

I know our stomachs are other planets

Planets which hide beings who party

Party on our daily buzzy feeds

And rot with us when we get lost

In these mud houses of ours



A house in a house

A home in a home

A planet in a planet

There is none free

None unimportant

It will be amazing if we know that

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


When love turns sour

All hormones bore

Oh! How I wish there was a law

A law which forces love to tour

Tour and catch happiness to the fore

To calm all “the-bored”,

Store “fore ever “

And stamp “Happy Ever Afters”


Oh carnivorous bitterness

Oh taunting thoughts of unfairness

Oh forceful streams of tears

Quench all love fears

Pressing its bitter gears


When love turns sour

All wish to have stored

Beginnings on all mind boards

To sack chaos from that love tour

Oh! Sickness at heart

Oh! Horror of soul

Oh! Madness pulling bodies of headaches

Curses on you breakages!


Oh carnivorous bitterness

Oh taunting thoughts of unfairness

Oh forceful streams of tears

Quench all love fears

Pressing its bitter gears

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Annor, the world is not fair

Look at Ama

She is crying and chasing money

While money is crying and knocking 

On Akumaa’s door

Akumaa, who has more than enough

The world is not fair!

As one cries

Another enjoys in satisfaction


Aren’t we like monsters and angels?

Aren’t we like ground and the sky?

Aren’t we like sunlight and darkness?

Why aren’t we fusing

What’s with the confusion?

As one cries barrels

Others bath in seas of satisfaction

“Obi resu no, na obi botomu aye okay”



I need to say thank you to cherished followers of for voting for me during the Blogcamp Ghana Awards. I must say to have a vote takes trust and dedication and although I didn’t win, I give thanks to those who spared their times in voting. Thank you and God richly bless you.

Dedication in adoration

I am at the right station


Honour and mission

I have a vision

To make you happy

So glad for you hands

Glad for your follow

Glad for your help

In forging forward


Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Moving Clouds

Working like horses
Can rise like mountains
To look down on the flowing rivers
Of poverty

Together like bees
Can be highly equipped
To battle alien soldiers

Of corruption

When wires of confusion
Develop fingers of wickedness
As fingers of indifference sit on
Other walls in folding
We, can break free if all eyes stand on guard

We are our rains
We are our suns
We are our loud resounding thunders
We are our clouds
We are our shrouds
Why are we our own Frankenstein monsters?
If we can blend
These parts we are
We will gun our haunting frightening lions
And make our habitat fairer than Zion
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Love has many definitions. It has been described by many as beautiful, surreal, while others think ill of it. If love were a human being, many are those who would have fought because of him or her. Whereas some would have wanted to keep it, others would have wanted to maim or lynch it. It is these emotions which lead to the maiming and killing of many a once in love partners.

When one falls in love, there is the usual feeling of happiness, of security, of expectation, of protectiveness, of trust, of defence, of planning for forever ever after, but there are only few who get their forever ever afters. Does that mean the rest are failures? No. When one falls in love and the relationship breaks in the middle of a failure ocean, it marks the beginning of war. Yes, war. War with self and war with the broken part, war which can be temporary or permanent depending on the discipline of the persons involved. You know what they say; it takes two to break a relationship.

Why will this be? Because the human emotion is like a computer with keypads. What is saved is what it produces when the right words are keyed in. And remembrance brings thoughts, thoughts bring hurts which light the heat of emotion and cause us to boil in anger, to shed tears, to become bitter.

What hurts most is when the other party moves on without you. You feel a sense of grief, a sense of loss, a sense of being left behind and what is scarier is the fear of remaining alone forever. If care and discipline are not adopted, we find ourselves planning scenes of revenge, thoughts of embarrassing the other party and his or her new flame and following through with the plans and thoughts. When we get to that point, what we need to know is that the love of someone you were once with is not your bonafide property. If it doesn’t work out with you, the other party has the right to move on. No matter how much it hurts, if you stop and also look, you can find someone who will make you forget about the past. If you deem it too much of a risk to venture into the realms of love again, then you must discipline yourself from interfering with the life of the other party.

Yes, love is beautiful when mutually shared, love is wonderful, when the glow comes from all people involved and it glitters blinding others in jealousy and attracting others to fantasize, but when trust is breached or something sparks fire which cannot be quenched holding hands, the logical thing to do is to quench that fire in parting while taking time to heal and to move on. You will be burned, bruised maybe, but scars of love are marks of experience, they equip and shield you when you reach love zone in future.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015


Picture by Jeremy Worst
Picture by Jeremy Worst

Take them off

Take them all off and leave me naked

So naked as the day I was born

And make sure all my troubles are gone


Take them all off, all off!
The clothes of labelling

The clothes of gender

Take off the clothes of need

And help me feed


I say take them off!
Take off the clothes of pain,

The clothes loneliness

Take off the clothes of ill health

And leave me stark naked in good health


Oooh take them off!
Take off the clothes of hatred

The clothes of tiredness

The clothes of thoughts

And peel the pants of prostitution

Take off the clothes!

Undress me!

Leave me as pure as the day I was born

Without thought horns

Without fear of thorns

Take me out of this jungle

Yes, out of this jungle of flowering tornadoes

Back through the womb rivers

Into the hole of the snake who spit me out

Until I reach the heaven of waist sack

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



She chews her “kuikuli”

And saves her  “kudikudi”

“Akrakro” is for the ewe

“Nkatebowie” for the Akan

“Nkatecake” for whoever

So she chews her “kulikuli”

Thinking to add her “koose”

Caring not for alien snacks

And shaming all who think  her shamed

“Kulikuli” suits her tongue

And she gives what her tongues want

And hates the pretence others are possessed with

Her shea is her skin’s shield

And she models it to perfection

 Ghana-loving-Africa stamping

It is what it is

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



They say huge trees sit on huge roots

Abena, “Abetifi nana nkansoa”

My roots are not even as huge as little worms


I can be uprooted by

angry winds

raging storms

piercy rains

And can be killed by 

heavy footsteps

heated sun

bites by ants

But I am striving

In this soil of driving

Hoping to use all;

winds, storms, rains

All in right doses

To get to hugedom


They say winds of death spared

Inspire strength

So I’ll brace them all



bites and all

Until I reach the hugedom kingdom

For others to sit on and grow

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Flowers in colours
What are you blooming to show?
Attraction to your nectar?
By droppings of scents?
“Dib dib dib, dibi dibi di haa
Dib dib dib, dibi dibi di haa”


Flowers with paints
What are you painting to show?
Erasing of age routes?
Concealment of colour?
“ka ka ka, Kai Kai Kai ki kaa
Ka ka ka, Kai Kai Kai ki kaa”


Flowers with pen hands
What are you writing to show?
That you are spirits to be worshipped?
gods to be bowed to?
“wu wu wu, wui wui wui wiii waa
wu wu wu, wui wui wui wii waa”


Flowers of bowing
Why are you bowing like slaves?
To stand in shadows?
Be kowtowed in finger bands?
“ah ah ah, aha aha ahaaaa
ah ah ah, aha aha ahaa”


Flowers of sadness
What are you sorrowing to show?
Pain of some tramplings?
Shame of some hurtings?
“co co co, cor cor cor cor’d
co co co, cor cor cor cor’d”


Nectars stay in
Pulling with scents
Drippings eventually empties their barrels
Those paints are inks
Washable by rain
Painting drains
And cost a ton
Pens are mighties
To be used fairly to shine
To spiritize is horror
For its gods are ruthless
Bowing is for God or gods
Shadows are for once livers
Getting one’s shadow
To push another, writes well, writes well
Sadness needs an outlet
An outlet of saintly revenge
To hush the hurters
And rain blood in their hearts
So “pu pu push, pu pu push for betters
Pu pu pu, pu pu push for betters”
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



When all gains wane

And all sanes stale

The world writes right

Deeds and live frights

That’s why I entreat



Paints horrors

With beams of smiles

Scatter hatred

With words so mild

Give good hugs

To last for life

Greatness needs no fingers of gold

All needs is a heart of gold



When your sun sets

And your dawn cries

Another’s sun rise

When your sun’s light reflect

On faces left to raise you high



Paint horrors

With beams of smiles

Scatter hatred

With words so mild

Give good hugs

To last for life

Greatness needs no fingers of gold

All it needs is a heart of gold



We will wed soils

We will scatter and mate

We will blend and fend

So lay on pillows of goo thought

And dream of a better treat

So I tell you to



Paint horrors

With beams of smiles

Scatter hatred

With words so mild

Give good hugs

To last for life

Greatness needs no fingers of gold

All it needs is a heart of gold

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

A Quest to Build a Fence Wall for the Yumba Special School; Please Support




Giving is more pleasurable than receiving. The Northern Region of Ghana has only one school which caters for children with neuro-problems. Most people did not know about the school, with the help of some few others and the media here, we were able to raise the awareness. What worried me most was what the headmistress told me. She said an autistic child strayed into the bush because there was no fenced wall and it took the school authorities and the community members a whole day in looking for the poor child.

Upon the advise of Nana Awere Damoah, a father and friend, I have decided to embark on a journey to raise funds for the building of a wire fence around the school to protect the children. I estimate roughly seven thousand cedis (7000) for this erection. Nana Awere has pledged 500 cedis.


Support to make the school a safe place for these angels. Those who wish to help can contribute into the mobile accounts 0546137073 or 0272238840.

It is my dream to leave the world I am in a better place for those I leave behind, what about you?

Those with arms of mummies

Those with shelters

Have boundaries of protection

Those with children termed sane

Sleep well even in death

Think of the fears of the unfortunate

Of the fears of those like angels

Of the fears of those who stray

Without a thought to any future way

And open your heart

Open your palms

Open to seal the protection of some

Open for peace

Open for love

Open to free the minds of fear

For humans never choose their defects

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



The expired spends not

And cares not of spending


The expired, like dead wood, feels not

And cares not if it is burnt


None can make it angry or sad

If it gets naked, its countenance changes not


We will all expire

And will all be obedient to all

So why the struggle?

Why the pain?

Why the waste of time and troubles?

Money is paper

Paper without soul

Paper whose weight gentle air can carry to loss

So learn

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



The presence of breeze

is announced by close leaves

on a giant tree


Their strength of closeness

tell others the presence of intruders

and praise those who bless


What rings a bell

on a bald tree?


So like many siblings of leaves

on a great tree, 

let’s entertain one another

Until horror winds or age dryness

bring us down or bury us 

in strange soils

And if a higher thirst craves for us,

so be it

After all, the tree will eventually fall

When the land gets tired

and decides to turn

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Take me there,

There, to the place where truth and lies meet

And leave me there



I will stand there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

Until time’s sun rise fully on them



Time’s sunshine will show the chameleon there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

And will show the shinning diamond



So take me there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

And let me experience the theatre of detectiveness

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


I want to set a moon table

On blue sky grounds

With seats made of stars

To gently light our love

And help it merge into oneness

Under the very eyes of God



I want to borrow the voice of a nightingale

Hoping an eagle will lend me its wings

So I can sing you written unforgettables

To write my love on your brain’s metal sheets

As I fan your ego on the eagle wings



I want to be like a mountain with a cave

A comfortable cave where chaos could pave

Way for peace to travel through your blood stream

I will feel safe with you in my womb



So stop stepping back

Watching me lack

Stop the ‘antowankyire’

I’m tired of chasing

Stop being the wind

We’re breaking many shelters

With me as a breeze

Chasing your wind

Can create commotion if other wings crash into you

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



FIR 11307

Ataa Ayi is my role model
But I aim for higher
For no soul must get me
Until I retire

How dare you?
How can you aspire to be Ataa Ayi?

I am now a being with shadowed tongue
What is the difference between multiple zeroed fraudsters and thieves?
Don’t say they kill with weapons
Those who die drinking bad water
Those who die plying horrible roads
Those who die like fowls because of hunger
Those who die fighting each other because of bosses like you
Are more than all who die through Ataa-like guns
Boss, please don’t bow your head
Neither must you call me insolent
Ataa is my role model
Because he is better than all the robbers in suits
Better than religious leaders who travel to hot pant lands
Of choristers in the dark
Better than mouths who talk with coward hearts
And me knowing my passion of being a higher Ataa Ayi
Tells me I can be better
If I am able to clear all bosses
With capital monies relaxing
In Swiss accounts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



I see you

I feel you needing the shine now

I have to tell you how I, abject horrors, did bow

in my quest to be here after hurting and bruising

pulling on the ropes of hard work



I have to tell you how hunger

 dragged me through shameful mud

as pain of many innocents in tears

whipped my eardrums



I have to tell you

how many used and cheated me

Seeing as no soldier lived

or wanted to be at post around me



My tears fetched no sympathy

from the streams of protectors

neither did it fetch help

from pockets tearing with wealth



I have battled sicknesses

on sibling deathfields,

Have battled chronics

on fields on motherly scare deaths

while fanning the broken heart of my earthly vehicle

as her companion chased skirts of her besties

And oh, I have had many see my naked soul

 being raped by suffering and deceit



I have recorded horror names from

mouths of loathers who saw me as their grounds

and have felt the painful stomping of their feet

as I heard their satisfactory laughter

walking the streets of familiar faces



I have suffered disappointments

from bosoms which swore shelter in rain

and have heard carers chime the “I told you so” bell

even in the storms of pain and heart tsunamis



I have hungered

I have thirst

I have cried tears of blood

I have walked

I have run

I have thought of neck tasting soul taking ropes

I have screamed but none did hear

I have begged for life which hopped

now I shine still amidst the clouds

she wants my model who embraces it all

none shines from dirt without stress

left to me, modelling you will be best

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015


High heels

High bills

Hot chest foods

Like succulent mangoes

Stop joking

If you’re hot, you know it

No mouth must draw your attention

Jeremy Worst
Jeremy Worst


When legs are crossed

And chest swing in call

While eyes look far,

The brave knows his call

If you are brave, you know it

You don’t need a shouting heart

To prompt your vim


If you are game

You know who is same

Don’t be lame

Prepare to be tamed

Or work for the fame

It is time

The clock chimes

Action begs for hot rhyming

Come and work to say you came

If you play, you know it

You don’t need the played to conceal defeat

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Accra_Slum (4)_0

As mouths chirp
Of its stinking gutters
And eyes roll
Appalled by its horror ‘borlas’
The hearts of the slum
Beat ‘kum, kum kum kum’

Like the beings unrespected
The gangs so suspected
Its ills stand uncorrected
But more happiness is erected
As its hearts beat ‘kum, kum kum kum kum’

In its bosom
Lie hearts of gold unrefined
In its bosom
Lie thoughts dreaming of mansions
In its bosom
Lie needs which call for cruelty
In its bosom lie lies attracted by little intakes

There are tears
There are fears
There are hymens bruised and stolen
There are drugs
There are tags
There are guns to scare and take
But still its heart beat ‘kum, kum kum kum kum’

So search for its hearts
Feel its pulse
Take its temperature
And know how they do beat
“kum kum kum kum”
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Shegee Styla
Shegee Styla

Good songs beg for listenership and having listened to Shegee Styla’s new album titled “Let’s Go” I am inclined to share it with all you lovely followers of The song is set in the slums of Accra, Ghana, and talks about the fact that people in the slums also have lives and live lives to the fullest.

It tells of their everyday activities, shows those in the slums have hope and are strong in facing life’s hurdles.

Check it out on Youtube if you are a lover of music:

(All for inspiring good talents)

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Search and research

The birds who perch;

Their wings lurch

To twat all searches

Of guns, stones and sticks


Search and research

Ants always hunt

Even in faces of being stepped on

Crossing streams

Even in the face of drowning


Search and research

Bees see many a places

Before honeys are cooked

And they fight by stinging

In attempts for protection


Search and research

Hunger’s aggressive legs kick

Those who sit in wait of favours

So act like the birds

Act like the ants

Act like the bees

And be one to be searched and researched

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


When the skies open their gates
And give the sun the chance to light
Earth beings, some, thank their makers
Others, think of their intakes
So brains bless and or curse
But Abena, I worship your Highness

Through the nightmares
Through the storms
Through the dilemmas of my dreams
Through the runnings
With close chasings
You are the one who tamed my screams
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Teeth of black golds
Please sharpen yourselves on ruthless stones
And get ready to chew
By all means chew

Start chewing from the skulls
Which aim to take you there
Yes, break those skulls
Use your claws to pull them out of their enclaves
Bite to chew the good sense out
Making watchers salivate in pleasurable satisfaction
With thoughts of they keeping theirs to taunt you
By all means chew

Chew the hands of healing
The bosoms with hoarding hearts
Which have the keys to your protection
Chew the stomachs whose hunger force productivity
And satisfy your jealous thoughts of nothingness

By all means chew the thighs
Which host balls playing on horrid fields on your backyards
Crushing the seeds which want to meddle in your lives
By seeking change for your futures

Crash their bones
Lick the delicacies thereof
And after you are done with chewing eyes of the seers
Belch as you finish drinking the cool blood
Then enjoy the darkness
Which will join you with every chewing
Don’t grovel then
Brethrens, live off thoughts of your delicate chewings
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

Meet Christopher Kyaatuur; the Crippled Cobbler with Innovative Ideas



On April 24, 2015, while I was running errands with Portia Mwinbeter-ib Dery, we both had problems with our sandals so decided to get a cobbler to mend them. Close to the former administration block of the Tamale Senior High School in Sagnarigu sat a cobbler with well arranged tools working.

I must say I have seen the man sit there for over four years and never suspected he had a deformity. I had to take a good look at him when he butted into the conversation Portia and I were having. What he had to say got our attention.

“A man must be one who thinks about his family. Of what use are rivalling women when you can build a home with one? I have three children with a beautiful woman and I work hard to take care of my children. Many Dagbons do not think before acting, so they take many wives and have many children even if they cannot take care of them. That is very sad indeed”

Then Portia asked if I was listening, and I was.

“I work hard here. Many people bring their bags, sandals and others for repairs here because they know I repair well. If I repair them well, I know that it will last longer and the people will have no problem if I charge them more. How people here shout on their customers baffle me. It is as though they think they are doing the buyers a favour but it is rather the buyers who do them favours. I come here as early as I can and leave as late as I can.”

We looked and saw he was a cripple. Then we decided to take pictures of him and let the world hear of this inspirational being, an inspirational being from the Upper West Region of Ghana who does not think of begging on streets like others. One who finds the shows of pity on streets by deformed beings preposterous, and he so gladly obliged.

Well arranged tools, these he packs here everyday


Bags he was going to mend



He really chats his customers and makes sure they are relaxed and feel at home


He takes his time to really work on whatever he works on




This is his vehicle, he parks it right in front of his base always. Amazing how it never caught my attention


The puzzled Portia stood in watch, saying how incredibly inspirational he was


You are likely to always see him this way, always working to make a living for his family and himself





Asked for a good pose, he still held on to his work

WP_20150424_023His last message: “Learn to work for your keep and stop looking for who to take care of you. At least you must start work before someone tries pushing you”




Cares are rare in fairs

Rabbits hop free now because

Craving teeth are busy


If ants walk and run,

Search and carry while careful

Whose excuse is laze?


A Kyaatuur takes his stick

Drags himself and rides through the

Weathers high and low


Who are you to sit?

Who are you to create such lazy scenes

Of hunger and deprivation?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015




The foot mat of the heavens

Shows its grandness

The capable hands of the earth

Shows God’s magnificence

“Ahunuwo abobirim”

This is your exaltation

“Tonsuo bↄ awia”

I do thee worship



Like the cock and its dawn praise

I do your great name in gratification raise

You are the greatest thought

One without a money slot

“Daaa Agya Nyame

Ayeyi nka wo din”



You are a mysterious pleasure

One who knows no corruption

One who is merciful without measure

One who deserves adoration

If every breath had a cost

If every thought had a cost

If every blessing had a cost

None would have been able to buy

“ↄprekese Gyaamadu a wo hu bↄn afie mu”

You really are the “Great I Am”

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015


The World Autism Awareness Walk and Appeal in the Northern Region of Ghana 2015, a Success

It started like a dream and came to reality being crowned with success on April 25, 2015. In Ghana, many people think of children with special needs as evil, bad spirited and snakes. If the children are autistic or suffer from cerebral palsy, they are mostly sent to spiritualists who claim they send them to the spirit world, in other words, kill them. It is in this wise that Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia decided to create the awareness in partnership with the only special school in the Northern Region; the Yumba Special School, during the World Autism Awareness month in the Northern Region. Portia Mwinbeter-ib Dery and Naana Nihad Kareem really helped both financially and with the arrangement. Ibrahim Mustapher also helped tremendously. Many media partners helped, Savannah Radio, Kesmi Radio, Bishara Radio, Tawasul Community Radio and Fiila fm.

The walk took place on the 25th April 2015 and the awareness was created. Watch the walk in pictures.

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The capable police team dispatched by the police commander himself, Mr. Lovae. They really worked hard
The capable police team dispatched by the police commander himself, Mr. Lovae. They really worked hard


It was touching when a teacher shouted “Stop killing them, they are no snakes, and this singing autistic girl asked, “Aren’t we entertaining you?” And she was, she was entertaining to just watch. SAM_4360 - Copy - Copy (4) - Copy SAM_4360 - Copy - Copy - Copy (3)

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They know no evil. SAM_4435 SAM_4434 SAM_4433 SAM_4432 SAM_4431 SAM_4428 SAM_4427

Refreshment after the walk. Even the policemen noted that the children had more stamina than the the “normal” ones. They walked ahead and enjoyed themselves as they sang and told people how human they were.SAM_4426 SAM_4425 SAM_4424 SAM_4423 SAM_4422 SAM_4421 SAM_4420 SAM_4419 SAM_4418 SAM_4417 SAM_4416 SAM_4415 SAM_4414


At the end of the walk, the organisers realised that the Yumba Special School has been sold to the people. People were aware of its existence, as to if they understood, more work need to be put into it. It was realised that the meaning of autism and how those on the spectrum must be treated must be given orally through microphones to reach more people. In all, the World Autism Awareness Walk in the Northern Region of Ghana was a huge success being the first of its kind.

(Pictures by Amin)



Clear screens
Pious hearts
Heavenly minds
Who calls shinning angels snakes?
Must be the blind in spirit

Crying souls,
With debris in filthy holes,
Curse senders
Curse hurters
Curse mouths whose words did hurt
Only doomed souls hate innocent hearts

Theirs is the kingdom of heaven;
Those who know no sins
Theirs are the riches of heaven;
Those whose slogan is love
Theirs is the kingdom of heaven;
Those who are sent on journeys they are not set
Theirs is the kingdom of heaven;
So torture them and write your sins on their hearts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Asaase Abibire!
Sit on a listening stool
And answer your queries
Maybe, just maybe, you might convince your host

Why do you boil egos of your masculines
Until they attain unbreakable statuses in negation?
Why do you create those
Who destroy their earth routes
And kill spirits who aim to make their names immortal?
Of what use is cowried ego which have sluggish hands?
Of what use is the wrong who raise others to love being wronged to your kingdom?
Let’s move to other realms

Now answer this too
And don’t keep mute like you always do
Why do you keep hearts of murderers
Who are sluggish and only love to fry, boil and pour blood of their own?
Why do you keep them?
Can’t you swallow them whole and leave this place peaceful?

Why do you allow new ails
Which have voluminous appetites into your territory?
Do you love the horror spectacles you present?
Do you know no shame?
Don’t you get tired receiving blames?
Do you find sympathy and fear for you as game?
And on top of that you keep greedy power hungry rein holders?

You are a disgraced queen
You are a beautiful mannequin
You are a fallen innocentia
You are torture even for pious eyes
You are a nightmare
Just because of a few out of your lot
Learn to shelter your ills
You aren’t the only one with thunderous abominables
Why do you put words in facts
In the mouth of your fans and foes?

You keep mute and sit!
Just think of a good way
A good way to solve your troubles
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Hounding heart
Pounding pass
Calling cruelty
Healing heart
A pea in a time pot

Sailing saints
Beaming beasts
Daring demons
Fighting fair
A pea in a time pot

Giving gains
Jailing jests
Loving lanes
Mending most
A pea in a time pot

A pea in a time pot
A burn in the rot pot
Fake ladle in pot caught hot
Growing greens in future streams
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Dreams are the fastest runners

Runners without souls

Runners not like Ussain Bolt

Runners with wings unseen


Dreams are taunting bothers

Bothers who demand hard work

Bothers who mess with minds

Bothers like psychotic creators


If you dream

And you scream

Thinking the dream

Will walk to your head’s screen

Then you are the jester who thinks he can fly

To God, not through death,

Through the very angry sun

Heads, hands and legs

Leading the rest at rest

Will give those dreams a chase

To make them worship instead of being worshipped

So up up up

And plan a take off

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



In this rounded ball

Is a caging wall

But in this rounded wall

Are arms which call

Arms which call in solidarity

Arms which call for rest

Arms which call for helping

Arms which call to nest

Arms which call like the Creator’s

Arms which call for peace

Let ears be peaceful

To heed to the great arms which call

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Another strong promising leaf
Plucked by ignorance
Plucked like a weakling
Plucked without warning
Sending shivers to fetch tears

Another strong promising tree
Cut down by many on tall fence
Cut down by watchers and head shakers
Cut down by greedy animals
Leaving in its place nothing but agony

When will closed mouths open
When potent eyes send messages
To their chambers?

When will closed minds open
When sharp ears send signals
Of warnings to be worked on?

When will innocent souls stay
Allowing defaulters to be washed
Down the drain of death?

We are bread
We are salt
We are sugar
We are fragile
A fall in these seas
And water wins, drowning us with our dreams
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Powerful, attentive

Teaching, intriguing, learning

Travel, mystical, ignorance, cheats

Enlightening, engaging, characterising

Bliss, foolish


Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

(Today is World Book Day, please take a book and embark on that travel.)



I took you in reluctantly,

one who has been wounded

by a storm, fears little winds


Now you are this star’s heart,

When huge trees fall,

Their sounds travel far, so I am shivering


Anxious for good and bad,

I am like a swan and porcupine

Ready to love and or fight


Indulge me if you’re real

Be blunt and don’t act like a coward

If you are a joker


Hands which merge

And sharply cut in separation

Bleed more and hurt more


Standing on this dilemmic path

I see no movement as a step forward might be suicide

And one back might be cowardly and loss


This is the gate of my heart, opened

Its vulnerability shyly watching

Wanting an embrace or a closure

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Hug layered onions

Hold fumes of tear gas, waiting

For knives of awe hurts


They are on their marks

Gunning for eyes which lead knives

To their quiet temples


Onions with cool souls

In detecting the rots, stay

Knowing no betrayals


Who calls them mean things?

In fighting fair, weapons are

Allowed on battle grounds

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


You can trace the fantasy

And see the needing ecstasy

On faces with many dreamy fake fallacies

True, because boys use flowers

Men use deeds 


They will come like militants

Bow like slaves

Raise their flowers

And beg like prayerfuls

Yes, boys use flowers

And men use deeds


They have pipe mouths

Which water boastings

And wear clothes putting words

Into mouth of fashion

I tell you, boys use flowers

And men use deeds


They think their flowers can calm

They think their flowers do charm

They think their fashion is dope

So they mostly throw their ropes

Know that boys use flowers,

Men use deeds

images (1)


When boys bring out their flowers,

Girls sit on their nectar

While women pass them by

Because women need deeds

And girls need sweets

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



“Story of my life

I have a wife

Who hates the word ‘strife’

And cancut inspiration with a word knife


Story of my life

I have a husband without a life

All he does is whine

Thinking everything must be divine


Story of my life

 ‘Work as life is striving for better’

Is the only sentence my father knows

My mother thinks that is what prevents life’s lows

What about what I think dear?


Story of my life

He is like a being from palm

Akpeteshie is what he knows best

He cares not about the rest


Story of my life

They call me barren

But the doctors say I am fertile

And he runs around hiding from doctors like a reptile


Story of my life

Poverty is the shelter of my family

Pain the winds which stay in

And shame the company we keep

Why do many say we’re lazy?


Story of my life

Anyone who comes close aims to use me

None thinks to stay, so old yet single

If only I could have a child


Story of my life

Everyone calls me a witch

Just because I work hard to earn my keep

Will they one day execute their plan of lynching?


Story of my life

Sickness sits still on my grounds like a cloudy sky

Not moving at all

When will this house be free?


Story of my life

I only want to travel

Why can’t I get a visa?

Will I ever be seen like human on my passport?”


Each has a story to tell

Without ridicule, there is no challenge

Like soldiers on a battlefield, train harder

And fight strongest

Yours is to win most fights

before your gallant loss

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



I am dazed
I still feel amazed
You turn me this crazed
Why can’t your thoughts ever faze?

I am now an onion
With many a companion
Layers of layers, a group in Zion
I think I fear nothing like a lion

Auntie Akosua said to be careful
That filth in bottles like yours are harmful
But their stench are never palpable
And their victims end up so horrible
But I feel I am capable

She calls them goats
Who sniff ‘nyashes’ like cats smell ‘momoni’
She calls them ‘sasabronsams’ who act too good like sent-angels
And she calls you a ‘goatsabros’
But I am still floating on your clouds

Until the storm she anticipates comes
I will take your hot addictive rums
And will be drunk like the muddy grounds
Till I fall on a rocky ground
Just love
The way
Your thoughts
Add fire
Through my streams
Could this be ‘e-v-l-o’
Or ‘v-e-l-o’
Or ‘l-e-v-o’
Or ‘v-o-l-e’
Oh I know, it could be love
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


When I lie in quietude
With emotions in multitude
Bubbling like potent soap bubbling
I think of you

When your thoughts flow into mine
Like smooth river flowing into a great sea
The merging is surreal
It harmonises and smoothens all rough edges

My veins are just empty holes
You are like the blood which drives me human
My pores are just small holes
You are that energy which cleanses like sweat
Peace is alien
When your thoughts develop legs
And travel abroad my mind
The chaos like “ah! Ei! Oh! Agyeiiiii! Buee! Pue!”
Take precedence knocking me into fake death

If I am a mountain
You are my grounds
If I am a sky
You are my heavens
If I am the sun
You push my rays
I am a firewood
And you are the flames
I hope you flame me in company
Till I turn all ashes
And you go off with me
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Ruka Yaro in her poultry farm
Ruka Yaro in her poultry farm

Prideful layers stand

Shaking their heads

And feeding fat on Ruka Yaro feed

Knowing they’ll live to see old age

If some terror sicknesses do not meander

Into their domain

So they feed like kwa kwa, kwa kwa kwa kwa


Broilers are in their own world

Knowing they are feeding for the next occasion

Their kwa kwa kwa turning to kwa kwa keke kekeke

They know the feed is not for free

So feed as much as they can

Only stubborn ones stand hungry

In Ruka Yaro’s specially made coop


Layers will lay

Broilers will soon boil

Her master head works to make them fine

And consumable

Like the sweetened eggs and meat they are

A murderer for good I call her

One good turn deserves another

Feed fat fowls

And feed the mouths with thoughts

Thoughts to live like us

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


The school system in Ghana, to me, is flawed in many ways. So much that many teachers find themselves in weird situations which make no sense and it leaves me wondering. The code of conduct of the Ghana Education Service (GES) is, to me, not clear and does not cover many areas which wake to bite eventually. We talk of the use of mobile phones and GES does not permit its usage but children have smart phones they use crude methods in charging and it is now something no teacher can have control over.

The issue of girls barbering their hair in senior high schools, to me, does not make sense. I know there are reasons like; they needing to study, making them disrespectful, making them attract men etc. I know that many girls in private senior high schools with plaited hair are doing fine. Why must they be made to be conscious of their hair to a point of creating chaos?

As a teacher, I marvel at the trouble surrounding the hair of female students. A girl who plaited her hair and covered it with a scarf saw the senior housemistress and decided to faint for fear of being penalized. So she feigned collapse, was sent to the hospital and later told her friends she did that for fear of being punished. All that drama is not worth it.

I could say students should be “deponked” as some say but that option is not advisable in some schools. Here in northern Ghana, there is a spiritual sickness called “genes”. When they get attacked by these spirits, they go as far as threatening to kill others, harming themselves, physically assaulting others, running around like the mentally challenged etc.  This spiritual sickness is known to be sparked by the touch of their hair by others. They believe these spirits must be appeased; some rituals need to be performed before one touches their hair so imagine what will happen if you touch their hair? And don’t say it is preposterous, even very respectable men pay attention to the girls “possessed by genes”.

I think it is time the Ghana Education Service allow girls to plait their hair instead of making them cut. It does not make sense that the hair of students cause so much attention and makes a national headlines.

With the case of a teacher barring students from writing their final exams because of their bushy hair, we have to think about it in many ways. Many are those who will jump into conclusion and condemn the teacher but there is more to this than meets the eye. I must say that some teachers are paranoid, they are humans and are fallible, some are simply too passionate and become emotional thinking in immaturity that their goal is to discipline so go overboard. These teachers need time to learn from their mistakes and the mistakes of others. The children who were quick to run to the media house just wanted to breed trouble. They could have reported to the administration, and there is the evidence that the teacher involved wanted to just scare them, those who remained were allowed to write their examination. That brings us to the question, is the media fuelling disrespect among children?

I think we have come far, too far that children now see themselves as adults with rights, well rights they have and rights they don’t have. The earlier we think of ways of eliminating issues which can grow to bite, the better for us. I call on GES to revise its code of conduct and clearly state what to do and what not to do to prevent teachers from making fools out of themselves. The elders say “advise the cat but advise the stinking meat too” I wish teachers will know that teaching is patience, we need patience in order to take care of our own children, so of course we need more patience to handle children of others. Whatever we do, we must think of the issue broadly before acting. Anyone who succeeds in life needs to thank one teacher or the other but teachers who victimize eventually become the villains.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015






When the toughest nut breaks
The weak ones brake
Fearing its very breaking ground
Making sure all dear ones are found

When the eagle flies in fears
Chickens noisily flee in tears
Fearing to look up
Thinking not to shut up

When the dog backs
The cat thinks the dog lacks
And internally calls it a weakling
Until it sees its dead stick and starts trembling

Time is time
Lime is lime
Even time sweetens lime
But shivers make all flee, even prime
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Chief rhyme with thief

How the former gets kowtowed

Like a god with goodies for the submissive

And the latter risks harsh death

Like rival goats which are destructive

Beats me, beats me



Bow rhymes with bow

How one serves as a weapon

To take lives and used for hunt

And the other gives respect

Swelling heads and stroking egos

Beats me, beats me



Earth rhymes with death

How the former is mortal

Like a mountain huge and strong

And the latter ridicules mortality

Like a fly seeing a wound

Beats me, beats me



Words are nothing but ridiculous sounds

Twisting minds and creating bounds

Bounds which clash and confuse in rounds

Rhyme the dime but climb the time

Peek and see words as the boo

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015



Even when clouds do sky shroud,
Caging the sun and its rays
Sun misses no little hole
To announce its presence
Even a trickle must never be frickled
Life sits not but moves

Bickering thoughts freckle
Or clash in insanity
Rejecting the protection of parts
Living in the middle of the whole
Leaving opposite thoughts to cover minds
Or wonder the freedoms associated
Life sits not but moves

If life acts weird by siting
Movements which give meaning will freeze
Thoughts which drive our vehicles will cake
We would have been milk in milk in milk in milk
Kept in one safe bottle of some waist
With frozen bones and thoughts
So yes, life sits not but moves
Catch little trickles
And learn channeling your rays to say
“You were here”
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015