Pidgin language rules this land
As ‘danduruwa’ rocks their world
The rough voices of fans
Working like ‘nikanika’
Can be heard from all corners
In kiosks and single rooms
As their curses of blowing heat
Chase their footsteps
While illegal wires cry their heated fates
Some night workers
Whose market flopped have mouths like pigs
Temperaments like annoyed right hand men of Satan
And walk like zombies Begruding their scanty clothes
Which they blame for the failures
While others do all in style
To suck money out of perverts
Hard liquors stay put in rooms of many
Others keep dancing in the little bars
Aided by smokes of all shades
From lungs through noses of ‘highs’
Here everyone is hard
Some who weild guns are jubilating
Their loots panting far from their owners
Others lie on hard lands
Stoned to death
Or locked away
Still struggling ones lie in their heat
Thinking of how to sell their dog chains
Or their ‘waawu’ clothes
Fufu pounders dreaming of being chased
By heavy pestles
Some children in training sleep in their nightmares
As dreamers are being hunted for their laziness
A book is an ill omen
Because it requires much
To generate any
Who has that much?
Torn mats complain of their postponed funerals
Rubbish lavendas cruel scents
Hoping to be burned
Or sent to their final restings
Flies sleep not in this realm
Bothering even the tea seller
Who knows all the secrets of his land
But shuts his mouth to stay safe
Mosquitoes fight outside beings
And battle the insiders
Still, many waists enjoy their nights
Waking those non-existent to join them
Some mashing up their blood
When their ghostly faces show
Here a bed is a luxury
A trotro driver; a rich man
A taxi is heaven
Its driver; a god
Wearing a suit is alien
And an insult on injuries of egos
Any rule stands
So long as it battles no business
It is hard to live
So much that even cocks fear to trespass
Let alone crow to wake
Ei! Don’t their fear for their lives?
Here life is a hard knuckle
Knocking all heads
Striking all living
With no discrimination
The typical Zongo life
Dreamers may struggle to flee
But how many will succeed?
And how many will be alienated
Either voluntarily or under duress?
It is a scary world
Where many suffer loneliness
As space taunts
While congestion is the lot of many more
Who just need to breathe
A very fair world
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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