Crawl like cowardly spiders
In hidden tears
Shielded by pride

It flows to the brim
And cause all that is dim
Making tongues sour like the tree of nim
And like an old sim
Feeding all new phones to have vims
Defying all that is proper and prim

Knowledge is power
So never say no
Never kowtow
To a failure bow
Nor be comedy to your foe
Flaw your flaws right from the word go
No matter how low
So your boat will wow
Row row row and row
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Asamando adwen kesefo
The world drifts from the main
Into a fake
Mains are free to live
To rot
Into death
While their abstracts stay intact
Clumsily trying to work for them
But what can work without a soul?

Put on your ear aid
Rest your buttom on a comfortable seat
And hear what is from what was
Why will I receive a bouquet on phone
With no life
No scent
And no feature of life lessons?

Freshness is what its new depicts
As time walks on
Its muscles fall
Calling on all
That beauty is no static realm
Then they wilt
And scent so bad
As their death calls for a broom
Waking the receiver from a procrastination bed
Into full gear to work hard
Now those morals wilt with the main
As the abstract smiles forever
To vanish only with a flash

Hearts are sent in despicable arts
With no sounds to read
With no chests to hug
With no hands to hold
Few with animations to deceive the eye
Time, flashback
I missed my stop and have been brought too far

Too far
To a mannerless era
Where everything well hidden in skirt
Knickers, trousers and overalls
Need only the right search terms
No matter the colour or manner you need
No matter the action you need to see it undertake
No matter how crude you need its rudeness to be
In the scrotum of a room
One can fetch all
All in all
This drive has brought me too far
Too far I have been sickly farmed
My roots finding it too difficult to ground penetrate
Time, you have brought me this far
This far which is too far
This very very far

This far where seclusion is noise
This far
Where new teachers abound with just a fixed connection
This far where metal birds fly those with paper powers
To wherever they want to be
This far, where the world is one
This far
Where New York is found on Kaneshie street
This far
Where Paris blesses the eye of Salim
In Bukpurugu
As Yaa Yaa laughs into the ears
Of a Chinese fatso in his sofa in China
From Abetifi
This far
Too far as to lose me
In a realm so unkempt
A realm where everything has an abstract
In the internet world
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Mum C Writes


What do you call an oufit that you can share with your brother or sister, wife or husband, boyfriend or girlfriend?
What do you call an outfit that looks equally great on males and females alike?
How about GIGI?


That’s what the folks at WEARGhana call their latest creation: the world’s first truly super-cool unisex outift with a touch of African. And before you say unisex ain’t your thing, remember two words: polo shirt.
A truly creative fashion label, WEARGhana has always sought to expand the frontiers of Ghanaian fashion. And this is another mighty leap forward, and in the right direction


According to Co-founder Awura Abena, this is what led to the creation of GIGI, “At WEARGhana, our aim has always been to help Ghanaians look great at all events, wearing made-in-Ghana outfits. We noticed that while a lot of progress had been made in…

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What do you call an oufit that you can share with your brother or sister, wife or husband, boyfriend or girlfriend?
What do you call an outfit that looks equally great on males and females alike?
How about GIGI?


That’s what the folks at WEARGhana call their latest creation: the world’s first truly super-cool unisex outift with a touch of African. And before you say unisex ain’t your thing, remember two words: polo shirt.
A truly creative fashion label, WEARGhana has always sought to expand the frontiers of Ghanaian fashion. And this is another mighty leap forward, and in the right direction


According to Co-founder Awura Abena, this is what led to the creation of GIGI, “At WEARGhana, our aim has always been to help Ghanaians look great at all events, wearing made-in-Ghana outfits. We noticed that while a lot of progress had been made in the formal and semi-formal categories, we really didn’t have worthy alternatives for casual foreign outfits like the polo shirt. And we realized that was a huge market.”
So what did they do?
“We went to work to produce an outfit, that was easy to wear and maintain, fun, great looking and truly casual. And affordable. And we ended up with the beauty we have christened GIGI”


Angorkor, the other half of the WEARGhana duo added, “GIGI is a t-shirt with unique statement print details. It’s both dressy and casual. Initially we were torn between presenting it as gents or ladies wear, and then ended up thinking, “why can’t it be both”? A ‘dress shirt’. So we tested the concept for a while and the response was overwhelming.”
Now here’s what you need to know about GIGI: 
It’s available in countless exciting colours (navy, white, yellow, turquoise blue, purple, fuchsia, green…) and comes in 2 designs: the flap and the diagonal.


Ladies can wear it really short for those hot events or knee/ midi length. And guys can rock it like they would a polo shirt or t-shirt.

And it’s moderately priced. At GHS 70, you can afford to stock your wardrobe with enough GIGIs to make unforgettable fashion statements wherever you go.
So now we can’t wait to go to parties, the club, and see the GIGIs driving the polo shirt crazy.
Go on, call/ whatsapp us on +233243766202 or +233244827003 to place your orders. Or simply send us a message on our Facebook/ Instagram (@WEARGhana) page or website: http://www.wearghana.com.


When my heaven in daylight turns to hell
Calling to keep a countenance none can tell
I always yearn to recoil into my shell
Like a tortoise in danger smell

Oh how I wish there was a bell
To help me skip any problem cell
So none can say “she fell”
And carry me on a gossip pan to sell

When will my waters find my well
And quench this thirsts that hungrily yell
Squeezed by hell which does compel
To my pain and frustration excel
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



From Algeria to Zimbabwe
Only minus Morocco
The strong 54 stand like a team
Combating like dedicated soldiers on the battle front
Cool huh?
Thank you Dr. Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana
For your visions which birthed this union

Although little mosquitoes are proving difficult in battle
Undemocratic regimes shielded in greed stand as your opponents
Civil wars hold hands with poverty
Draining the standard of living of you and yours
Famine, desertification,
Lack ecological sustainability
And Western Sahara battles legal issues,
You are doing what Napoleon couldn’t
Taking the walk, though slowly
To the land of union you seek

You held Togo’s second Gnassingbe’s neck
With words
And forced him to the election polls
In 2005
Your discipline of Mauritania still stands
Teaching her slowly since 2007 to be sane in democracy
Your helping Mali to find its feet in 2013
Is a feat worth mentioning
You are a great union
AU you are on your feet

Your active participation for peace
Makes you a Moses
Leading us to the land of peace
From crises in Darfur
Through to Somalia
Cote d’Ivoire and more
Are just proves of your dedication

We hold hands to pray for your dreams to mature
In 2023
So our free trade area
Customs union
And central bank will walk into active and successful reality
To give us more power over our economy

You keep representing us
Fighting for us like the small David
Some may have no hope in you
But when our problematic Goliaths fall
There will be no division
We will wave our flags in oneness
Knowing no differences
Seeing no varied colours

Thabo Mbeki
Joachim Chissano
Olusegun Obasanjo
Dennis Sassou Nguesso
John Agyekum Kufour
Jakaya Kikwete
Muammar Al Gadafi
Bingu wa Mutharika
Theodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo
Yayi Boni
Hailemariam Desalegn
Mohammed Ould Abdel Aziz
Robert Mugabe
Idriss Deby
All you whose buttocks have tasted the chair
And all those yet to climb for the crown of union
Prayers for you
You are part of our frontliners
You stand for us
We say Ayekoo!
For the great works you are doing
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
Photo Credit: Google pics


A workshop on Child and Family Welfare Policy was held in Tamale yesterday by the Ministry of Gender, Children and Social Protection at the Tamale Sports Stadium on May 24, 2016. The workshop which was supposed to start at 9am started around 10: 30am. The workshop  was chaired by Naa Bukari Andani.  Presentations  were made by Sylvester Kyei-Gyamfi and Chris Lartey on the policy, Child Protection Baseline \research Summary Report and Operational Plan 2016-2020 for the Implementation of the Child and Family Welfare Policy. Chris Lartey made mention of the fact that the policy was made solely for the Ghanaian and will not be implementable in other countries because they studied the Ghanaian culture and made the policy purposely for Ghana.

Speaking on the policy, the representative of UNICEF stressed that marrying the formal and informal to work on prevention instead of cure is the better option in all policies. Naa Andani advised all to make child upbringing a shared responsibility so as not to neglect our culture. He added that neglect can be attributed to poverty, ignorance and indifference and hoped the policy will be implementable to help all concerned.


Representative pf UNICEF giving her speech.DSC00425 DSC00426 DSC00427 DSC00428 DSC00429 DSC00430 DSC00431 DSC00432 DSC00433 DSC00434 DSC00435 DSC00436 DSC00437 DSC00438 DSC00439 DSC00440 DSC00441 DSC00442 DSC00444 DSC00445 DSC00446 DSC00447 DSC00448 DSC00449 DSC00450 DSC00451 DSC00452 DSC00453 DSC00454 DSC00455 DSC00456 DSC00457 DSC00458

Cross section of participants during the presentations.DSC00459 DSC00460 DSC00461 DSC00462 DSC00463 DSC00464

DSC00465 DSC00466 DSC00467 DSC00469 DSC00470 DSC00471 DSC00472 DSC00473 DSC00474 DSC00475 DSC00476 DSC00477 DSC00478

The Child and Family Welfare Policy Booklet in pictures.

The workshop was okay in my opinion considering the fact that persons with disabilities were not giving any form of representation. The organisers claim they invited them but none turned up. I think they could have done more to see to it that they represented to make the dissemination of the policy easy in that sector. Even the students who represented were from just two institutions; Tamale Senior High School and Ghana Senior High School all in Tamale. No other students represented. To top it, every student was giving fifty Ghana Cedis which I think was not necessary. These students were brought by their institutions and so that money for the transportation could have been given to their institutions to help organise workshops to educate their institutions since those who represented were just few.

One would have thought that participants will be varied but the turn up was just too low in my opinion. All in all, the food was good, snack was okay and the day one of the three day workshop closed in normal success.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia


What do you see?
Birds in flight with different wings?
Different sizes of animals
On all fours living as they please?
Those struggling on twos
And those sailing with wings?
Rivers screaming for seas?
Clouds clutching on skies?
Airs roaming Invisibly aimlessly
Touching with no fingerprints?
Look hard
Tell what you see
Think the tell
Analyze the think
And know you are just one
One of the many things
Rolling in this ball called earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Where were you?
When cold threw shivers
And tears on my fragile body
And boxed me like Azumah in his boxing fury?

Where were you?
When scarce waters
Were woken from deep pots
And made to flow into gutters
Like unneeded waters from a washed colander?

Where were you?
When the gates of bodily heavens opened
With no guards and called out your name
Like a desperate preacher calling on God?

Where were you?
Where were you?
Where the hell where you?
When moans were chained into near future
As horses of pleasure stood quietly
Strapped to a love chariot
With our names boldly engraved on?

Now the horses are free
The waters died in seas of filth
Sympathetic heat has wrestled the cold
And the bodily heaven gate has been shut to you
Your chance stuck in the past
So stand like Lot of salt
And await your punishing rain
As I travel into the realm of a prompt one
Legs of my heart, walk
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Photo Credit: Google pics


Bad morning greets in hollowed caves
Thinking aloud its knighty saves
Fantasizing itself as Biblical Daves
But none seems to work as none helps paves

It is the lack of saviours
That calls for its misbehaviors
If the bad is released
And its curses seize
Whatever wrong it writes
Will erase itself
Tearing through a monstrous break
To see daylight
Demands muscles of demons
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Lord I need

For you to breed

My inner seed

In your kind deed


I need to feed

So I try to weed

And try to heed

But I flaw my creed


Free my mind

Free my soul

Free my body 

To sour like your dove

When I fall in the mud

I need your rain

When I fall in the gutters

I need your rescue

When I fall in the fires

I need you as my fireman

What can I ever do?

What can I ever be?

What can I ever say?

Without your very presence Lord?

Please feed my need

And right my creed

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Picture: Google pics


Touch me in
And not out
Then my glow will show
In the glass of love
Touch inside out
And not outside in
For thieves break in to steal in the dark
Making light their enemy
In the stealing territory

I need a carer
And not a thief
I need to glow
Not to be made low
I need to flow
Like a blockless river
Not to be stagnant like gutter water
So light from in
And not from out
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


The sinking sun rays
The sad melodies of nightingales
Wake owls with crowns of dreams
Waking bats with thoughts of mischief

The dark will bark
And mark my lack
The yearns will bite
And take my light
Fears will guard
And brand me bad
As the night climbs mountains
To get me through dawn
And roll me over
To another cruel day
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Why did we not get rods?
Why did we not get skies?
Why did we not get water
To easily slip and hide in the land?

Why did we not get moons?
Why did we not get stars?
Why did we not get airs
To escape when enemies chase?

You gave us lands
Which vary
Some attract good gardeners
Who plant flowers
And all that feeds all
Including our lands

Some attract thieves
Who dig for gold
And leave holes with depths untold
Collecting rains which wound our lands
And cause more harm
Than monstrous demons

Some attract none
So weeds do play
Strays use as bays
And when they last in age and time
They do decay
After their sand turn clay
And end as mud
Which sit in white elephancy
We keep lands
Like security men do banks
Who knows when thieves can break through?
We are unfortunate
We women
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


We have crossed
Crossed the rubicon
And can never get a head
To dream of change
Change which can alter positively

We have, like gluttons, dined
Dined with the undinables
Food whose stench can never be removed
Let alone hidden from its seekers
Who have the light to chase
We who have no light
Nor sight in mock flee

Like bees smelling their stolen honey
They chase in battalions
While we run like tired tortoises
With no shell to shield
Taking their beatings
While looking for brains to conjure their grains
Grains needed in seeds
Seeds needing the soil of loam
Loam needing water,  sunshine and air
Empty handed and headed
We live in our running misery
Stepping into same steps

I dislike my own
I dislike me
The unreasoning
Which seems liked a canker
The quick cash yearned and not worked for
The troubles caused with no solutions
We have crossed
Yes, crossed the rubicon
Sadly headed to hell
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


I don’t want to be a land
I want to be a tree
No matter how deeply rooted
I will stand firm
With branch-like hands
Waving my leaf- like fingers
None will step on me into mud
None will dig into me
None will wash away my skin
None can blast my stone like bones
Hoping to make a house
Whose legs will be cemented into me

As a tree
I will stand
Pulling my waters from the static land
Traveling through its defences
While dancing to the winds
I will hang my fruits up
No matter how hard they fall
I can take the burning
I can take the cutting
I can take it all
Because they sure will have tasted the heavens
By the time rots lay their icy fingers
On their loved selves
In bellies of predators
Or the hated land
Who will still sprout their seeds
To grow like me
And when I finally break
Or get uprooted in rejection
I will fall into the ever caring land

I need to be a tree
A very huge tree
Instead of this little land
Housing many weeds
A broken tree
And few crops
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


As to how it got quenched
I cannot tell
Except that like a vulcano
Overtaken by a rebellious tsunami
I woke up bruised
At the shores of love
When I had barely paddled to the count of ten
On its sea

Wet grounds
Wet woods
All dry matches watch
Marking abominable my territory
Taking strikes in caution
Giving up at one sight
Dry land seems lost
From where I stand

It will only take a volcano
To light my territory
Light it if you will
But grow your stick into a candle
Then a dragon fire
Then a volcano
So you are not pulled in here
Into the abominable zone
For then
We really will be buried
Buried forever
In this cold sad wet lands
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Verily verily, I say unto you
All that is bitter
Great and disappointing
In this wide world
Never fails in blame of
All little holes down women’s south

Vying to soar like eagles
Altering fates to appear like perfect frames
Giving out like Father Christmas on a big win
Initiating rights to act like korean candies even in crimes
Netting beings like fishes doped from deep seas
All point fingers at holes on women’s down south

Voices dance with breezes like drums
Awakening muscles with need
Getting attention with passions
Illustrating feelings of fantasies
Not until breath runs will I stop saying
All point to the little holes down women’s south
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Love made her his dog
When he was himself a frog
Tied to a log
So her running turned into a jog
Her big frame
Insulting her state
Like a queen with her crown
With a fool tag like a clown
Teeth showcase themselves in her honour
For the fun of it
When it is her painful plight
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


What is the difference between much and none?
In the much
How is the rush?
In the none
How is the crash?

Many are the laughters of the much
Like sugar and ants
Many are the odours of the none
Like a dead being rotting in leaves

Eyes in goggles of deceit
Break their glasses to stand naked
In triump of chaos
Not like a secret agent revealed
But like a wicked demon unleashed
The laughter, haunting
The blows, unhealable

Know the eyes for the none
To share in your much
Experience is the worst teacher ever
Its punishments, regrets and hurts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



Just a glance

At an entrance

And it fell into a trance

Never asking for a chance

To get enchanted

Are you a dog on climbing duty?


Agya Waadwo!

So I met a goat on heat

It failed to bleat

And chased on three feet

Hoping to me cheat

Me, that bloody future meat!!!


And when it fell

Without a shell

It bleated that I rang its bell

And need to quench the fires of its hell

Hiding its intruding foot which all can tell

Oh dogs love bones

I believe as much as goats need flogging

Amanehunu nie!!!

Or could it be the he attached to its name

Making it pompous into thinking itself human?



I patiently wait

For a day to make it straight

And get a good bait

To alter its fate

And open the bait gate

To make it late

There, I will surely get my meat

And steam it as I please

For now, all I can say is

NONSENSE, in capital letters

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Photo Credit: Google pics



In every soul
Is a bowl of role
Which needs to be filled
Like a chimney needing coal
Once sluggishness poles
Hits abound
And just like hairs in the way
Combs uproot or slash
Leaving them dead within
No matter how long
They, among the living live
A thorough combing is all it takes
To make them leave their abode
To be stepped on or incinerated
I will fill my bowl of role
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


There is a God
There is a God who started it all
Created all the chords
And made the call
For harmony
For a wheel
Which births to shed

There is a God
The one who saw all firsts
Every shoot has a root
Every root has a seed or stem
Which births it
Everybody comes
Only He knows the ultimate root
The ultimate stem
And knows the magic
To forming the land

There is a God
One who weaves the cloth of the earth
As a spider weaves its nest
One who changes the wheels of the earth
Like a fitter changes that of cars
One who picks and drops
Like a trotro driver and mate at work
There is a God
There is a God

The world might be the size of His palms
His eyes must be the size of unlimitedness
His heart, the heart of a warrior
Seeing it all
Fighting through the fall
Heeding all calls
And answering what needs the chance
There is a God
There surely is a God
Now I know
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


The womb of the earth
Births them all

Why would one womb
Birth them all with such variations and roles?
Do flowers love being flowers?
Trees being trees?
Crops being crops?
Weeds being weeds?
Herbs being herbs?

Flowers complain of being used
Their beauty for pleasure
Their nectar untreasured
Beaks from all ends
Drinking like free wine
Dangers from all corners
Threatening like tsunamis
While they are created precious and mostly fragile
Even those with soldier thorns
Facing all dangers
Do they envy trees?

Trees complain of growing in hardships
Facing all
Even those who grow
To birth beauteous flowers
Feel the peckings
And the swords of the winds
They birth in seasons
To lose without reasons
With vampires of leaves, barks and fruits
And besides being homes fit for flying faeces
Axes and dormas call
To slash them dead
Their corpes for carrying from buttocks to stinking corpses
Do they then envy crops?

Crops also complain bitterly
How can they be so nicely parceled
And have so many hunters?
Hunters who bite, chew and swallow their bodies
After seeing to their hellish transition
What irks them most
Is their end in view
Flies settle to sing in disgust
But swallow their rejecting remains
Those who make them into outcasts
Never wanting their second looks
Do they then envy herbs?

Herbs complain
Of battling scaries
Why will their paths be filled with battles of sicknesses
When there are plants
Which enjoy it all?
Air, sun, rain and life
But are hailed in beauty
Hailed in strength
Hailed to sit free
And fall to die?
Do they hate them all including weeds?

Weeds also complain a lot
Why do they grow with others
And are mostly murdered before their time?
They tend to be stronger
But less respected
Might even be more attractive
But abandoned and disgraced
When at all
Will they be respected like herbs, flowers, trees and all?
The world is a misery
No state has no change wishers
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Mouths of trees
Are their roots
They roam in the earth
And search to feed
To keep the standing bodies
Fresh and strong
But no eye does see
Their tiresome toil
Unless erosion washes
Hands dig
Then their dirty selves are seen
Their elimination is the upper fall
And death to all
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Tough in resolve
Skin that radiates life
Muscles that call for glory of birth
Born protectors
Strength fit for trained kings

Men of black soil
They never coil
And if they boil
They really toil
For they know the soil

From Ghana
To Nigeria
The Gambias
To Kenya
Any blackness with muscles
Is a goldmine of happiness
Black is sweetness parceled
Strength needed for cuddling
And brightness in originality
Few bad nuts roam
But cannot taint the face of reality
My black man, my sunshine
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Who needs not the tenderings
When sickness enters doors of strength
Like an unwanted visitor?
What about uncertainties spitting on emotions
And messing with minds?

Who needs not the magic touch
When accidents hit bodies
Like thorned cane which is blood famished
And skin-craved?

A good nurse
Is a good cash
In the purse of the earth
A good hand
On the being called earth
A cool balm on the sores of the earth
A great needle
On the thread called earth
And like a great song
In a storm, he/she calms to heal
God bless the goodness in the good nurse
Eliminating the bad nuts
For clear air in the serene realm
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Hope not for stillness
There will come a time
When tables will have more attention than you
They will be moved
Made to carry
Turned to rest
While the earth keeps still
With you in its belly

Hope not for stillness
As your ears hear the cocks crow
Hear the sounds of happy birds
Who are thankful to be in the wake
And your eyes see
Your legs move
Your hands touch
Be grateful for the move

I am like a flying eagle
No matter my hurdles
I am like the dancing breezes
No matter the troubles
I am like a smiling sky
No matter the clouds
For I am grateful
Grateful for the wake
As I have one more day
To step on my eternal bedroom
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


These crazy thoughts travelled
And have come on extensive visits
In pencilled heels
Walking on the noisy tiles of my mind
What will I lack?
If I heap these suckers
Into tiny holders like an attractive stall
And cut low these clothes
To show this flat flowery haired stomach
Making saliva scarce in the mouths of modest men
And causing panic in the scrotums of perverts?

What will I lack?
If I strip these bottoms
And leave them gay
To dance in tights
To tease and lure hands with life
As magnet attracts pins
And make their third legs
Push aside their common sense
To create for me a smooth path?

What will I lack?
If these legs taunt in heels
In strikes that can bring down kings
And burn queens in jealous rage
While these hands hold the confidence
In calculated moves
With a killer smile
Which flirts with the eye?

This needed hole won’t get filled
This sought after thing
Has no metre
This nectar just dries with time
And when it finally falls cold
Moths penetrate only to disintegrate
What will I lack?
Oh what will I lack
When I put all these to use?
Isn’t flaunting the law of the moment
The thoughts of men
And the easy way to all that is fancy?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Wells are dug from up the pregnant earth
Until gravels are thrown out
Then frogs flee to croak
Whiskers of rats hide to rise
In corners marked with axe
Strength of muscles show
In layered rocks
Forcing broadness for better views
The beauty of its sweats, colourful
Digging continues
Until waters fill sacks of life
Few are blessed in thirst quenching
Many are the blessed in multiplications
Many are those drowned in disappointments
And much more are those drowned
In the cruelty of the waters
Until the waters dry
And fill itself with dust
Man is a well



Our guest post for today is hot with model-like beauty. She is a budding Ghanaian photographer. She has love, passion and flair for photography and is none other than Matilda Kafui Dogbatsey popularly known as Kafui Praise.

AMOAFOWAA: You are welcome to amoafowaa.com

KAFUI: Thanks Amoafowaa

AMOAFOWAA: Please who is Kafui Praise?

KAFUI: Kafui Praise is my brand name and Matilda Dogbatsey is my Birth name. I’m a young Lady of  26yrs from Akatsi in the Volta region of Ghana, and I live in Tema.

AMOAFOWAA: Tell us about growing up

KAFUI: Growing up was not easy at all. I recall days when I had to send bread and water to school because mummy didn’t have money to give me to go to school. A a child, I didn’t understand. I would cry as if mummy didn’t want to give me any money to school, but today having grown up, I do understand and feel so bad for those days. Growing up I had serious low self-esteem. I didn’t feel I was worth anything, I always looked down on myself and thought I would amount to nothing. Partly because I didn’t know Christ then so I thought I needed the love and approval of people to feel I’m worth something. I placed my confidence and worth in the house we were living in. Due to a Court Case that’s still pending, we were thrown out of our own house because my mum didn’t have enough money to fight the case in court. Now the house in which I placed my confidence is all gone. I felt broken inside out. The enemy filled my mind with suicidal thoughts because it broke my heart to see my mum cry. I would pretend to look all strong and okay so they can also be okay. I would cry myself to sleep, had to move from one place to the other, live with friends, live with a family member whose wife threw my kid Sister and I out because she had a problem with her 3 year old son giving more attention and always wanting to hang around my kid Sister than herself, lived with Church members…etc etc. . I attempted suicide like 4 times back then, just to end the pain and heart ache. Thank God I didn’t Succeed. God kept me. The enemy filled my mind with the thought that Suicide was the only way to end all the pain and brokenness and shame I was feeling emotionally and physically.  But Thanks be to God for Keeping and sustaining my life.

AMOAFOWAA: Any hobbies?

KAFUI: l love singing and surfing the internet

AMOAFOWAA: A girl can do anything. Why photography?

KAFUI: This is a question I get a lot, even from my family members. (Lol) Honestly, I don’t have an answer other than Photography just comes naturally to me. Though I’m still learning because there is always something new to learn, I find so much joy doing it.

AMOAFOWAA: What are the works you’ve captured so far?

KAFUI: In these 11 months that I started this photography journey, I can boast of covering about 15 weddings and for concerts and other events. l’ve lost count. I’ve covered a Sod Cutting ceremony that gave me the platform to meet the 2nd Lady, H.E Mrs. Matilda Amissah- Arthur and the Former Chief of Defence Staff of the Ghana Armed Forces, Vice Admiral Mathew Quarshie

AMOAFOWAA: Cool. Any role models?

KAFUI: I love, follow and admire the works of many Photographers but that of Steve Ababio and Emmanuel Bobbie really inspire me.

AMOAFOWAA: Who can gain your respect?

KAFUI: One who is driven by passion to do whatever he or she likes.

AMOAFOWAA: Do you think it pays to be a photographer in Ghana? I ask this because you know passions alone cannot put food on the table.

KAFUI: hahaha, on point, We don’t take passion to the market. I would dare to say it pays. It all depends on you being the best you can be and showing your client that you are worth what you charge.

AMOAFOWAA: Let’s talk about photography. What type of photographer are you?

KAFUI:  Weddings, Documentaries, Portraits and Events have been fields in Photography I really enjoy doing. Especially Wedding and Documentaries.

AMOAFOWAA: Who or what event do you dream of capturing and why?

KAFUI: l love traveling to capture and tell my own version of a story so I would say I  just want to travel the world and capture it through my lens.

AMOAFOWAA: Married, single or complicated?

KAFUI: I’m in a relationship with the Love of my life Jayne Aruna Noah. I must say I’m blessed to have a man who understands, support and pushes me to be the best I can be.

AMOAFOWAA: Congratulations.  If you were not into photography, what would you be doing?

KAFUI: I would still be working 8-6pm  in someone’s company and be dying slowly inside trying to find a purpose to my life.

AMOAFOWAA: What is your view on men being made demi-gods by the society?

KAFUI: I won’t say men are Demi gods. They just humans who are also trying to find a purpose to life. They thrive on respect, respect is given where it’s due. Trying to fight them as women is never advisable, just let them be and focus on your life. It’s as easy as that.

AMOAFOWAA: Loud and clear. Any political views?


AMOAFOWAA: Photographers are mostly lost behind the scenes. To me, their lives are used to capture lives of others. Do you think you can live your life behind the scenes forever?

KAFUI: J As much as I love being behind the scene to tell beautiful stories through my lens, the model in me makes it a point to show itself once in a while through personal photo-shoots..lol…l love taking pictures of myself.

AMOAFOWAA: Fancy. So you are in front and behind. Cool idea. Do you take criticisms very well?

KAFUI: I’m always ready to learn and better my craft so those who know me can testify to my willingness to take constructive criticisms; one that comes with a solution to be the best I can be.

AMOAFOWAA: Who is your favourite musician and why?

KAFUI: Rev. Tom Bright-Davies. Anytime he gets on stage the whole atmosphere changes. He is my Mentor, Spiritual Father and Pastor. I just love him.

AMOAFOWAA: What has been your greatest challenge in life and why?

KAFUI: Hmmm, when the family member who housed me asked me to move out because I Chose Photography over managing his business. That to me was not new, having already gone through the experience of my family and I being thrown out of our own house and not having a place to call home for years, having to live with friends, family members and watch my whole family scattered was tough but it strengthened me. I pretended to look okay and all strong for my sibling and mum so they could also be strong. But every night I cried myself to sleep. One thing I could never stand was to watch or hear my mum cry, which really broke me down. Suicidal attempts filled my mind as I earlier intimated. Until I met my Spiritual Father Rev. Tom Bright-Davies, that was where my life turned around.

AMOAFOWAA: How were you able to face your challenges?

KAFUI: I turned to God with the help of my Mentor and Spiritual Father. His mentorship led me to find a purpose to life and God has always proved himself to be faithful. Everything I went through he used for my good to write a beautiful story out of my life.  Indeed, He makes all things Beautiful in His own time.

AMOAFOWAA: How has religion impacted your life?

KAFUI: I’m a Christian, Daughter of the Most High God.  Everything I am, have and can do is because God is the Pillar and foundation that holds my life together, without Him, I’m NOTHING.

AMOAFOWAA: Sell yourself to the world through your thoughts

KAFUI: I capture moments with passion as I pay attention to details. I tell stories through my lens a way you can understand if you were or were not there. Kafui Praise Photography on Instagram, www.facebook.com/kafuipraisephotography on facebook.

AMOAFOWAA: Any advice for people who are passionate about photography?

KAFUI: God First , study, get a mentor, let passion take the lead and money will follow. Show your works out there, let people see what you love doing.

AMOAFOWAA: You toured the northern region. Why?

KAFUI: I love the North, it is traffic free, peaceful  and has so many attraction sites to visit, its people are welcoming and loving. For me, it is home away from Home. I feel fresh anytime I return from the North.

AMOAFOWAA: Your final words on amoafowaa.com

KAFUI: Keep doing what you love Sis. We are blessed to have you.

AMOAFOWAA: And I love you for what you do. Thank you for your time on amoafowaa.com

KAFUI: Thanks for your time and patience. Blessings and much love.


I have met gods of images

Who make and preserve all in exact state

I have met goddesses with images

Never one with passion behind the cameras

Until I met her

With all that she needs to be in front

Like a picture

But willing with passion to be unique

To be the first black goddess

Who wishes for her world to see

That she is a goddess with passion than gods

To preserve images with love

Passion and flair

The Kafui way

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2016




Who sees now?
The needs unsatisfied
The yearnings unqualified
The places I’m stupified
Who sees now?
Who sees now?

Let the world turn
And take me to a higher realm
Where a little brightness lurks
The hidden families will surface
The unseen demands will roar
The naked love will kneel
Stooges of needs will lick boots
As praises or curses follow

Who sees now?
The feet worthy of worship
The bags worthy of being held in help
The fake compliments to speed up needs
Who sees now?
Who sees now?

Let all eyes blinded today
Be blind forever no matter the change
Haters must remain haters
Lovers, lovers
Back-bitters, back-bitters
For I am now in the dark
Watching the commotion in the light
Don’t confuse me with change
When I get into the light
Because then I will sadly grope
As the light may blind
And grant my rehearsals null and void
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Sweet scented gums of today
Your parceling is cool
Your taste is sweet
Beware of teeth of grinders

When they get you
They will strap you naked
Prepare their tongues
In their horrid holes
And put you in between their monstrous teeth

They will chew and chew
Chew and chew
Like grinding mill
Grinding a soft maize
And when they seize all your sweets
Your left rubber
Will be thrown out
Like an unneeded thing
Leaving you at the mercy
Of flies and dust
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



If the sky had no earth
It wouldn’t need the sun to shine
Nor the moon to brighten
Nor darkness to necessitate invention of light
You are the earth
Which take what the sky gives
And work to make them worthy
For recycling
To keep creation going

Like swans you love to shine in love
Like hens you hatch to train in love
Like moons you lead to be followed by stars
Like palm plants
Your firm structures in love
Send signal of strength in all battles
Your leaves help in easy carrying
Spines of your leaves help clean the environment
Your fruits and seeds help feed and heal
Your extracts have colour
Red to feed healthy eyes
White or light yellowish
To feed the brain and help delicacies to form
Your plant is the resting place for many living
Even your waters feed thirst
And in fermentation,  help soothe sorrow
And keep minds of greedy fools opened to all
Oh your dead trees give one of the most delicious little meats the world knows
Even the shelters of your seeds ignite fire
What is on you that feed not the world?
You are the waters of the earth
The breaths that keep human locomotive
The centres of reasoning
And the world’s pots of sustenance

Maker of man
Whose shadows strengthen and carry like eagle wings
Marker of territorial incantations
In cupidic realms
You are awesome indeed!!!
He who respects you not
Has lost his path
One who desecrates your temples
Sins against the power of living
He who knows not your worth
Has lost his sanity and way to his destination
Because he has forgotten his path to life
You are the stars
Only needing guards to keep well your wealth
And fame
What is love
Without your existence?
As kings become ordinary without their crowns
So is the world extinctly ordinary without you
You are no arm of the world
No leg of the world
No eye of the world
No neck of the world
No breast of the world
No seat of the world
The key to the world holds none
But the beautifully built
Nicely shaped
Lovingly made women
Who birth to nurse
And nurse to grow
God Himself made it so
Queens of hearts!
Every sound of every creature;
Living and non-living
Is in praise of you
You are the world
And the world is you
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


From your in house
You shielded
Into the out house
You rock
Feeling my body like the beautiful warmth
Eliminating cold
Shivering like a leaf
To get me growth
You are all
All that is good and correct
All that is bright and reflects
All that is cool and sympathetic
All that is Godly and loving
And all that is me
If love be the breath of life
I won’t mind doing all I can
To give you all
My mother
My life
My all
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Efya performs. She looks great in her dress. Make up on point. Very on point.
Efya can really sing. And she is a Great stage performer!
Gospel Artist of the Year goes to SP Kofi Sarpong.
Hi Life Artist of the year goes to Bisa KDei with Mansa. Presenter of the award was Tonyi Senayah of Horseman Shoes
Hip Life/Hip Pop of the Year goes to EL still with Mi Na Bo Po.
Reggae/Dancehall Artist of the Year goes to Stonebwoy with Go Higher.
Omar Sterling of R2BEES represents on stage. Cool performance. There is some classy thing about his performance. Mugeez joins and the stage lights.
The Best Female Vocalist of the Year goes to Mz Vee!!! Well deserved! She looks stunning.
Best Male Vocalist of the Year goes to Pat Thomas. I must ask what was Hamamat Montia wearing? Soo horrid and where have her breasts travelled to?
Best Rapper of the Year goes to Sarkodie.
African Artist of the Year goes to Wizkid.
Joe Mettle performs. What a voice! Very powerful performance. It should have been the opening act.
Best Collaboration of the Year goes to VVIP with Skolom.
Best Group of the Year goes to VVIP.
Best Producer of the Year goes to EL with Mi Na Bo Po.
Best Music Video of the Year goes to EL with Shelele. Sparks controversy.
Best Record of the Year goes to Sarkodie featuring Pat Thomas.
Best New Artist of the Year goes to Kofi Kinaata. Well Deserved. Susuka was, is and will forever be a hit!
Most Popular Song of the Year goes to Bisa KDei with Mansa.
Wizkid performs. Cool performance. Wizkid announced that he has signed Mr. Eazi to his record label Star Boy Records. On it are R2Bees, Efya and himself. He called him on stage to perform.
Album of the Year goes to Bisa KDei.
Artist of the Year goes to EL.


Songwriter of the year goes to Kofi Kinaata. I must say it is well deserved. Susuka is a very very cool song.
Gospel Song of the Year goes to Nicholas Omane Acheampong with Aposo
The High Life Song of the Year goes to Bisa KDei with Mansa.
Reggae Dancehall Song of the Year goes to Stonebwoy with Go Higher.
Adoma who is an internet sensation rocked the stage although her beginning was a little too dramatic.
Bisa KDei must be commended for rocking his African Print suits. Cool stuff and his performance is okay. Not dramatic at all although a bit dull.
Hip Hop Song of the Year is Sarkodie with Hand to Mouth. Was expecting R2BEES’ 1990 to make the cut but what do I know?
Hip Life Song of the Year goes to Atom with Ye Wo Krom.
Afro Pop Song of the Year goes to EL with Mi Na Bo Po.
Finally Kofi Kinaata on stage. Been looking forward to it for long. His first performance is just okay. Not too special. Just okay.
Finally my favourite song from him in performance; Susuka. Nothing can go wrong with this performance. Well, it flopped on stage but still, I love it.


TESA MUSIC GROUP takes the Traditional Music Award.
Winner for the  instrumentalist of the year is Justice Williams, aka Shikome.
Sound engineer of the year goes to Kaywa
All presented by Obuor and Minister of Tourism, Culture and Creative Arts
Best Music for Development is Milla Odartey Lamptey popularly known as Gasmilla. Takes home five thousand Ghana Cedis sponsored by Midland Savings and Loans
Lifetime Achievement Award goes to A. B. Crenstil. He takes home five thousand Ghana Cedis by the Ministry of Tourism Culture and Creative Arts.
Stonebwoy’s performance was, to me, average. Sometimes performing head on is best than giving it too much side additives. So average for me.


The porcupine soldiers had a tough time maintaining peace at the parliament house. Before they reached the parliament, many animals had heard from their homes and had rushed there to defend their own. Over two thousand animals died. Most animal families had casualties except tortoise family. They hid in their protective shells when it got dangerous and stayed that way until the chaos went down. Blood was everywhere around the parliament house. Carnivores bit and chewed their former games to the disgust of all.

The porcupines were able to chase almost all the animals away but the carnivores and fierce omnivores took a while to leave as they ate the dead like the gluttons they were. Eventually, all the animals were sent away and the carcasses left were sent to The Palace.

The first family and their friends had a silent meat party that night. They ate and ate until they couldn’t eat anymore.

Some could not stand the air in the caves of the palace and so came out to its compound to stretch for fresh air, forgetting the state they were in. Meanwhile, the animals whose representatives and families died heard their carcasses were sent to the Palace got up early and headed there hoping to get them for burial. What met their eyes caused them to turn the Palace into a mourning ground. There, lying on the ground were many lions, hyenas, tigers and many carnivores who could hardly breathe, their bloated stomachs pregnant with satisfaction. Bones and debris of animal bodies were seen being pecked by vultures. Although the vultures fled when they saw the first badge of mourners, it didn’t do anything to appease them.

The first family got up but Catcher decided they stayed in their caves until they all left; her reason being that could give them an alibi to the shameful happening. So they stayed there until late mid-day and asked Porcupine Poku to go and tell them the first family went up into some mountains to call on the new gods to give them direction as to how to solve the current situation.

Meanwhile, Poku told them that a commission of enquiry was already up and Cruiser, Fly Flier and Beauty had been served to meet to commission as soon as they could in order to get to the bottom of the matter. He also added that anyone who saw someone in any appropriate behavior can come and file a complaint so the animal will be called and brought to book when found guilty.

Most of the animals calmed down when this was told to them and went to their homes to wait for the first family to come to lay their complaints. Few stayed back with sorrow in wait for the first family; the new head of cows, the new head of giraffes, the new head of sheep, the new head of warthogs and the mother of the head of giraffes; Necky, who perished in the chaos and was obviously lying scattered in some belly of a carnivore.

Corrector the parrot, who left immediately he sensed the first drop of blood, stood on some tree near the Palace, silently repeating the lamentations of the mourners.

Henrietta, the mother of Necky, was the most dramatic. She cried and cried and cried until she collapsed and was sent to the Palace river to be ponded into sanity. Seeing as the few mourners refused to leave, King Gyaas and his entire family, led by Catcher, exited through the palace gate to wash themselves at the Palace River and met the unconscious Henrietta being resuscitated there. Blood and all, the head of cows, who replaced Quintin, Alex, stopped in his track and saw the very blood-bathed first family of the kingdom who felt caught and could not run. The head of goats was also fetching water for Alex, when he looked back, he also saw what was not meant to be seen. Before any of them could say jack, Catcher ordered for them to be killed. Henrietta opened her eyes and closed them again when she saw how her helpers were being scattered by the first family.

Corrector saw all that had happened and flew away thinking of the safety of his life. Henrietta was helped back to the palace in her state by the first family after washing themselves clean. When those in wait saw them, they hailed them as the savior they seemed to be. Before anyone could ask where and how they got Henrietta, they said they came from the palace river and saw her helplessly lying on the shores of the river. Just then, Henrietta opened her eyes, looked critically at King Gyaas and his family and started crying as though her heart has been ripped apart.



Oh what feathers on that meat
What beak it rocks
What comb it flags
What legs it models
Whatever lies beneath those feathers
Are like future chewables
Calling hidden saliva
To assemble on tongue grounds
Its foundation structures like unbreakables
Waiting to be subdued by teeth grinders
Whatever occasion will call for this
Will be my friend and murder ally
A feast it will be
A mighty feast it shall be
A delicious feast of fowlhood it has to be
What a cock!
Wait a minute
Is that how death is salivating
Upon watching my movements?


She will let it slide
And nurse her pride
For she has nothing to hide
You took her on a backstabbing ride
Calling her your bride
Thinking you will gain her breath guide
And she will never know you lied
And be the chick at the side
You, whose belly holds all sea tides
As your face is ugly fried
And couldn’t even bed show provide
Your life is not to her tied
The zone is so wide
So she will let it slide
Because she, your pledges, never abide
In your pathetic queer ride
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


I need you to know
The difference between a doll
And a living being
An eagle and an alligator
A picture and the painter
And the earth and its holder
A rich dude can’t compete with a ‘preman ni’
You stand in dresses
I wear them
You zombie your walk
I rock it
You fake your countenance
I breathe through
You peck foods like a nauseous hen
I savour it all
You try perfection under the light
I live it all
You are a zombie in choking
I am a rocker in living
Who lives than who?
Kill your pride
My ego sees it not
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Eno Abena ei
I need to tell you something
Something that Awo Pokuah said
That sugar attracts many ants
Ripe fruits attract many birds
But faeces shut eyes
Repels noses
And frowns faces

So I should try being sugar
To get many ant companions
And stay sweet on tongues
Or be a ripe fruit
To get many birds to plant well my seeds
Awo said like a climber
Who fears height
I should never look down
As flies are no welcome visitors
Let alone companions

Eno Abena
I want to be a fruit
But I lack the needed fertilizer
As a weak plant
Under a huge tree
I hardly see the sun
Feel the rains only at my feet
Only the air helps me stand
Mostly after visiting many

I need not think about being sugar
Who will grant this sugar cane audience?
Who will process me to attract without cost?
In rawness, I attract only thieves and flies
How good is that?

Eno Abena
Am I disappointing Awo?
Awo who was my odum
When the storms stormed out
My sky, when I needed rain and sunshine
My fan, when air got scarce
How do I face her in yonder world?

I am fighting
And will continue to fight
If you meet her before I do
Please tell her I am in the battle
Tell her although she gave no formula
I am searching frantically
Like a trained dog
To be sugar
Or a ripe fruit
Just as she asked
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Why Mothers are Golden while Fathers Struggle for Bronze


A mother is someone who can never be forgotten in life. She is the first point of contact, one who agrees to make her body a home for the vulnerable to grow through nausea, fever, weakness and all the pain associated with pregnancy. She is prepared to go through the most painful ordeal to see to one’s birth. There is nothing that beats this gesture. It is a worldwide thing. I would now zoom into my comfort zone and talk about mothers in Africa, specifically Ghana.

Most people celebrate their mothers in Ghana because of many reasons. Even mothers who are housewives are preferred to bread winning fathers simply because the mothers suffer to get most of the things the children need. It is a customary law that women thank the fathers of their children no matter how small they contribute for their upkeep.

So no matter how much a woman invests in her children, the little the man brings supersedes hers and she is expected to thank the man profoundly for it. According to elders, that is to show respect and sustain the interest of the man in his children. Imagine a woman who feels the pain of neglect and the horror of going through all the hurdles to take care of her children having to bow or kneel to a man who does absolutely next to nothing for the children. The humiliation and bitterness that must be swallowed is nothing that needs to be taken lightly. So their children see, sympathise with their mothers and acknowledge their sacrifices. It is very common to hear the sentence “Go to your mother” when a request is made by children to their fathers.

Again, most men abandon sickly and disabled children blaming their mothers for their state. Men are free to accuse their women of witchcraft or bad behaviour and making sure the women suffer to see the children through. And society does nothing to help such women. So such women fight their internal battles, the societal taunts, and work to keep their children well and alive. Why won’t they get the most part of the love?

Also, children depend on their mothers for almost everything; from their meals, to their clothes, fees and emotional healing. The father, if he is so at post, just comes from work; if he has any, and sits with his legs crossed waiting to be fed and pampered until his bed calls. After toiling the whole day to get the house to work well, the woman readily helps her husband without complaints. Why won’t mothers be gold while fathers struggle for bronze?

The modern Africa even makes the suffering of mothers more obvious. Women who have their own vocations are left to take care of the financial, educational, social welfare of the children, while men go around planting their seeds like reckless farmers. So a child will only be told of the existence of his uncaring father or see him in passing. Why will such a child feel anything more than a passing gratitude for such a father?

Also, most men, because of their greed, seek more wives with the aid of traditions and religious quotations which they interpret to suit themselves. In a polygamous relationship, it behoves on the mother to ensure the safety and security of her children. The man, with divided attention, cannot attend to most needs of the children. Most times, some men get more wives with limited financial resources. In such cases, the men flee in times of trouble leaving all the burdens on their women. Children are future adults and see all these things and come to understand who loves enough and who is there for being there sake. They hold the former like their egg and give the latter taste of their own medicine. Who can blame them?

It is mostly men who are capable of disappointing most families big time; running away, becoming alcoholics, asking for divorce, maltreating their women, etc. I am not saying that women do not do these things but those women are few. Need I add that statements like “Have you seen chicks following a cock before?” makes it justifiable for a mother to be pampered.

A mother does it all, feels the pain of her children, prays always for their welfare, will let go of her dignity and pride just to make sure her children are alright. Many are those who sell their valuables just to make sure their children are safe and well, in school or well settled. Their endurance and faith know no bounds. In short, children are the heartbeats of their mothers, and they are ready to die for them at any time. I know there are few bad nuts, but mothers in Africa will rule in the kingdom of their children for as long as things remain the way they are. Mothers all over the world will rule no matter how bad they are because nothing beats the pain of childbirth.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Photo Credit: Samuel Owusu Sefa


When flowers bloom
Many groom to be grooms
Working their magics
To get their nectars

Only few seriously need
And dedicate themselves to a flower
Hoping to water into fruition
Hoping their fruits ripe to feed
For their seedlings to continue its cycle

Many hover to steal
With no water to nurse for replacement
Many boldly sit to drain
Hoping for crowns of championships
Many hide to take
As though hell is on their chase
And others nurse into seedling
And bolt with the speed of lightning
For the flower to face the weathers alone

Flowers with eyes look
Flowers with ears listen
Flowers with only mouths are at risk
It’s a time for great care
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Stretch Goals: Nobody’s Jackknife

Love the comparison. Cool blog too.

Eleventh Stack

Poetry is a lot like yoga: it asks you to stretch out of your comfort zone, and the level of difficulty varies from situation to situation. Nobody’s Jackknife, the first full-length collection from Pittsburgh’s own Ellen McGrath Smith, functions as a master class for advanced readers and a challenge to motivated beginners. Like the best classes, it is by turns gentle and fierce, and by the time you get to the end of it, you should be glowing and panting a little bit; if not, you might be reading it wrong … or, at least, not wholeheartedly.

The yoga metaphor fits because Smith used it first: an entire section of Nobody’s Jacknife is made up of poems that bear the name of specific poses. These pieces explore the nature of the pose and its relationship to the world in which one poses, as explained in “Downward Facing Dog (adho…

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When you see guinea fowls whispering
Hiding the pitchy voices they use in irritation
Know they are cooking an abominable meal
Using the absence of an unsuspecting
As their ingredients
To throw at them indirectly
Through the most cruel of ways
After all animals in the kingdom
Have tasted its bitterness

When you see
dogs snooping
Like famished cocaine addicts scenting their dope
Know there are legs they seek to please
By doing all they can
To present something of delight
To be patted on their heads
To feel wanted for a brief while

When you see parrots
In cages on trees
Cranning their necks in stretch
Like giraffes
Know they seek something worthy to report
Hoping to be free from impossible imprisonment

None of these munafikis get their crowns forever
Like Frankenstein Monsters
They end up hanged by their own handiworks
Their achievements being their concoctions
Of ill words to cook the innocent
So by all means leave them be
Leave them to cook their ills
Until they end up fried
In their own cooking pots
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


This fourth arm
Is limp to arms
Its mouth turned into licking
Licking dirty boots of unscrupulousness
Leading in pleading the misleading
For unnoticeable rolling coins
Fleeing from pockets of thiefs
After being cut from the blood of the disadvantaged

The fourth arm
Meant to serve as eyes in the dark
Snores in connivance
And guards robbers
Against those they need to protect
Covering their shame in fame
Insisting on good for God and country
Pricks not their consciences
Stooging like dogs
Dancing like clowns
To throw dust in the eyes of all
And forcing piety into devilisism
Massaging egos of evil
And promoting ills to fly amidst chaos

This fourth arm
Is now like deadly tails
Guarding the national cake
Clearing bonafied hands like flies
While serving demons into gluttony
How much ancestral blood is crying in unknown grounds?
Crying for their unlived lives
Those lives too precious
But thoughts of patriotism claimed?
Ama Ghana sure needs seas to host her tears
The fourth hand is a lizard’s murderer’s ally
Watching the trails for proper stoning
Too sad
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


That I am a feminist
Does not make me a porcupine
Shooting at anyone or anything
When I feel threatened
Afterall cuddling moves the heart to work
In satisfaction and hope

That I am a feminist
Makes me no violent hen
Pecking and chasing
Just because I can
The fact that I am treated as one
Caught and gifted or sold
Does not mean I should give justification
That I am indeed a hen
Where on earth will the reasoning lie?
Even if I am made God’s hen
Then they originally are the cocks
Without a cock
Will I be able to procreate?

Feminism is no crown
For off-targeters
That I am a feminist
Makes me take the humility of a sheep
And not act like a rebellious goat
Telling my artificial master
That I feel the pain
And to let me have what God gave
The freedom to live
The rights to hope
The love to dream
And the happiness to work
And to free me from the closed fence

That I am a feminist
Makes me no monster
Roaring and bellowing like a lioness
To chase all living
Breaking and scattering
To cause commotion

That I am a feminist
Means I hope for what I need
To be retained in opposition
To secure me
To secure men
So as not to grow manism

Cut the tongues of serpents
Throw no brutal words
Shoot no bullets to kill
A feminist is peaceful
A feminist works with plea
Dedication and reasoning
That I am a feminist
Does not make me abnormal
All I seek is the sanity
Prompted by emotions and love
To birth results of freedom
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
Inspired by a Facebook conversation about feminism.