(In honour of all journalists who are just in exacting their duties; the Manassehs, the Aremeyaws. Mother Ghana appreciates you. Continue working hard for us without fear.)
Those of you milking makers
…of their working wills
Those of you hunting hard-workers
…in their loyal labouring
Those of you fighting freedom
…of the pious press
Sit and stand
Slap and soar
Seek and sack
Keep and kill
But know –
…you are mere mortals
…fooling in folly fences
As you book your own fleshes to cook
I thought we hunt haters
…haters of havens
I thought we cremate traits of criminals
…by warning, seclusion and termination
I thought we chase faces of pull backs
…and not pull ups
So why the urge to dilute pens?
Why the need for intimidation
…where builders of nations, painters of the what-is pictures, toil?
Why the cruelty to drain lives
…of patriotic pens?
Think reasonably and think right
With a foot on land –
…and a foot beneath land
Think carefully and think correctly
Half of your heart in life
…the other half in death
What do you see?
Know you not greed is a seed?
A shameless seed which when planted
…germinates into a plant
…then into a tree
…which wawa, sapele and mahogany together can’t rival?
Only pen machines of press can impress upon an uproot, yet you chase in termination?
So your birthed and unbirthed
…should be made to kneel
…their left palms seating their right
…even before they taste the sands of life?
Can’t you take off your life jackets of corruption
Knowing we are in the same sea you’re polluting?
No matter how high you float
…your medial to toes –
…taste your pollution downs
Even if that affect you not –
…know thirst will sink you to drink someday
How can you escape your own poisoning then?
Please seek treatment for your insanity!
How else do you call bullying builders
…and praising poisoners?
Please seek medication for monstrosity!
How else do you call felling great plants
…and watering scrap metals?
Please seek suicide –
…if your egos stand in the way of a working nation
And leave workers whose stomachs
…are sitting not
…on their prided consciences
…to work us up
For mirrors will forever be mirrors
Great pens will forever be disinfecting lotuses
If you can’t shape yourself to help us shape our world
At least be no hellish blocks
…hunting our best
To fill the excreta pits of your filthy consciences!
You with potbellies of selfishness, bleached skins of shamelessness
…bald pates of unthinkingness
…and hard muscles of murdering your own,
...your own motherland!!!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 9, 2019