There was a time
When stories, like scary whips
Ruled the consciences of growing heads
Declawing the roaring
Lighting dark hearts
Strengthening the weak
Shaping faults into saintly vaults
Spirits in story clothes!
Did we leave them for myths undecipherable?
Our ancestors were wise
So wise in most
That we could actually boast
But the boastables turned roastables
As civilisation enticed stealing of habits so alien to our realms
Now very green leaves
Have demystified curiosities of new marital bliss
Weakening the bones of beds
Long before fours are handcuffed into them
Where did sanity leave us for banalities?
No buttocks of the young
Graced the pates of chairs while the old stood
No ears of the growing
Were found close to places where mouths of the grown played
No sound of the young crashed adult discipline, anger or complain
No elderly head
Entertained loads at the sight of a youngster
All elders parented
All children consented
Westernizing Ghananiasms into Africanisms?
How good are the servings on modern plates?
Who opened the colonial gate?
There are hot coals on our pates!
Who made this horror bait?
How many can stand the chaotic dates?
Who changed our beautiful fate into slave crates?
Isn’t there too much to hate?
When did all age become mates?
At this rate, isn’t it getting late?
I can hardly stand the revolutionary wait
State the traits on the reality slate
Exhume the ancestral torches of rightness
To help find the paths long deserted
Water the dead plants of cool history
To get us into the right chemistry
Sound the bells our nature knew
To get sanity in our crew
We were not blind followers of white robes
We were Afris who could
Who says we still can’t?
I say we can, Can and CAN!!!
Who says sankofa is a path un-treadable?
Realization is all it takes!!!
It is not a meal with allergies!!!
Dead firewood needs just a little flame to light!!!
No abomination hovers its estate!!!
So let’s be sankofied
To uproot the hydra that modernity plants
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) September 9, 2016