Beginners were educated by nature

No barter education

Money now changes hands for a paper future

Like it changes hands for the pride of the nation

Crumbling the nation

No skills seep through head veins of many creatures

But they hold certificates worth the adoration

Who are we cheating?

Fake peacocks’ wings will be revealed

When winds angrily kick off their feathers 

We dance to the tunes of papers

And the songs are shelved attracting dusts in rust

We are to be pitied in these times!

We are to be pitied in these times!!

We are to be pitied in these times!!!

These times, when whites are blacks in bought eyes

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



When a storm uproot mighty trees

And catches the seas in its palms and splatters

Causing sands to hug in marriage

As its anger burns shelters to ashes,

Only brave hearts can brave the storms


When chaos sings a duet with pain

And clapping eyes throw punches insane

Hurts cover possibility of gain

Like a lion guarded cave, hiding treasured stones

Don’t give in too easily into the tombs

Think of the pains of your hatchery wombs

And put on your brave clothes


I know it is windy and you can’t see

I know the dusts are running with their fingers in your eyes

I know trees are dying, taking their oxygen to their graves

But breathe on and brave the heat

Brave hearts always do conquereth the fair

Nothing, nothing absolutely worthy

Ever comes unguarded in sufferance

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

(In difficult times, we become blind to what God is preparing us for. This poem is for all those who are in difficult situations thinking there are no solutions. No matter what they are, they too, have expiry dates. Trust in yourselves as the conquerors you are and be brave.)




Bats and owls have gone to bed

On huge trees with great great shade

Cats and bowls may be in shed

In an Ewe’s cravings grade


I am here like a soldiery bridge

Having crossed from a darkened night

I may be faced with a hardened ridge

But I’ll make sure I get no bite


Weapons of truth are like godly arms

I will hold with a prayerful balm

And if I fall by the firearms

I know I will fall into God’s sweet palm

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015

(Photo Credit: Shika Nornoo)



I have reached the middle of a rose

Through the bushes

And all the thorns

Seeking more colour to brighten

Seeking more scent to attract

I pray the Sky gives its nurturing


I need the sun in gentle doses

I need the breeze like livers need breath

I need the rain in moderate doses

To flourish and ripe in beauty and sweetness

And leave for the corridors of the heavens

To see the whole structure of the earth


I might be pecked by pests for nectar

I might be crushed by feet in the dark

I might be struck by winds and thunder

But I am here

And I pray for the best

As I stay in the belly of a rose

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Magic hand

Give me magic

Magic of thoughts

Give me magic

To salvage all rots


Give me magic

Like a superior angel

To know and touch broken angels

Called and humiliated, abandoned and garbaged


We call those we need

They are called by their own and taunted

Give me a magic thought

And a magic hand to salvage this rot


If I do get the magic

I will sleep not

Always working like a bull on the greenest field

Identifying and touching in healing


Hurtful tears break my heart

“Agyeiiiii! Bue!! Ouch!!! Abound to deafen

Give me the magic, the magic thought and hands, to trash the tragics,

To heal the world

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



What will it amount?
I ask what? What at all will it amount?
If we fall only once and get crippled?

If I am a print in book,
When crumpled by the ruthless
I aim to show and embrace minds

When I get burnt,
I pray my shadow moves me from mind to mind
To work more than a book ever will
What will it amount to?
What at all will it amount to
If we fall and never rise?

Victory does not only hold swords or spears
Victory does not only hoard hurts in words
Victory is impact
And impact is like a one way door and window, un-returnable
That is what I need
What at all will it amount to?
If a little fall cripples and rots?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015
(Photo credit; Shika Nornoo)



I am hoarding a lioness

In the cave of my heart

Yet smiling like the sun

Deceiving the depressed

As if I am cool



It can be raining cats and dogs in blood

Flooding the cave and killing its space

But even in the darkest of times

The moon appears on my face

Deceiving the depressed as if I am cool



I am cool like the breezes

I am cool like the birds being chased by guns

I am cool like the rat being chased into a smoking hole

I am cool so I try to say I am cool

If I say I am cool repeatedly, I will definitely look cool

As if I am cool

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


dog-cat happy

A master sent a cat on a dangerous mission

It went like a wind

And came like a breeze

All breaths for a minute seized


The dog got jealous and barked for the same mission

It went like a wind

But never returned

All hearts, for it, burned


Then all animals decided to follow cat for the same mission

Cat told them to follow its lead

Quiet when it does

Shout when it does


All animals kept mute after the tiring mission

Because dog’s girlfriend happened to follow

They got to know that what the cat blinked away

The dog shouted like an angry thunder, attracting enemies

Hence, its demise

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Young inks bleed

All digging to plant seeds

Seeds for a great tree

Which will shelter their future


Some will dig shallow holes

Because like the parable of the farmer

Weeds grow with plants

So winds or birds will destroy some plants


Those prepared like Job in the Bible

Will dig and grow well

Water well

And have strong shoots


Somewhere in the future

Many things can happen

Strong winds can push some down

Woodcutters will cut some down

Pests can destroy some

But the strong and fortunate will stand

Always nice watching from a distance

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015



Kwaku gave Ama a stone
A white nice stone as a gift of love
She kept the stone like a saint
And worshipped its very grounds

It so happened that a flood came by
Stared at the stone and Ama’s family
And swept all of them into the belly of death
Ama searched and searched until Kwaku came
But found not her family or stone

Kwaku was as fierce as a thunderous bull
He raged and ranted and yelled and cursed
Until Ama left on a mission
A mission to hunt her family and the precious stone

Ama went into the forest
Searched in and around seas
And finally sought to rest in caves
There, she heard a shout from a sack
Opened the sack and saw a small pig
She was startled

The pig thanked her for her kindness
And resolved to help her locate her gem
After telling her her family rested with saints
It ended up taking her to Prince Adjei’s palace
Where she found among many a gold, diamond and ivory
The soft handsome Prince’s heart

Kwaku waited in anger
But doped himself in tears and alcohol
When he saw their wedding pictures
And that ended the tale
Of the unbendable
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015 inspired by Dotty


He had a huge title on his book
But hid words associated not in the same book
Many read the title in jealousy
Knowing not it stood not
For what lies therein
Until Abugri had the urge to open and read
Whereas the title was as dark as ebony
The words hidden were as red as palm oil
Danger hidden in peaceful ebony
Who leaves ebony for roastings?
No wonder they were hidden therein
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Ride in stride

The donkey beneath

Ride in stride

Thinking not of a drop in trot

Whip and equip

Its ego to grow

Like a giant hiding a killer punch

It will hide its ears and throw you down

You’ll be grateful if you end up down town

With broken bones and aches holding a metal whip

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

(Inspired by a good friend called Mr. Hudu)



I know you are a good enemy football player

But trust me, your most skilful dribbling,

Make them more than C. Ronaldo’s,

Will be my healthy trainings

Your trials at long shots

Will always go to the corner

Or like an overfed eagle’s shot,

You will send them flying in the heavenly air

Your headings will only give you headaches

As they will always go over my bar

You might win some free kicks

But will end up giving me a goal kick in your confusion

Your throw-ins will mostly taste your foot

And make you cause unpardonable fouls

Incurring the displeasure of your coaches and mates

Wait, you might win some penalties

But your own trainings will make me catch them with ease

Making me win the Golden Hands

Ahhh ah! Your ultimate goal of scoring a golden goal

Will at most bounce to kick you in the face

For you are only a player

Even with strength of others

I will always be the winner

Because I am my 11 month squad

And God is my coach

Even in my hurt zone

He will send a whirlwind to blind you

The anger of it will always make you assault the referee

Giving you a red card

So you try playing me

Play me a few times and risk losing your career

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



It’s sad, those pushed to school

Are mostly those who learn to fool

Eventually acting as many a stool

And being used as many a tool


It’s sad, those who has heads

Make the many beds

For those who know no sheds

To hurt the gentle with many reds


It’s a horror

Which starts with a terror

I guess we all need a mirror

To quench this “tehorror”

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Horror can rain
Terror can maim
But time’s long legs
Never cease to run

Hearts can stop
Hurts can harm
But time’s long legs
Never cease to run

Shame can tame
Risks can shatter
But time’s long legs
Never cease to run

“Ko ko ko”
Oh “ka ka ka”
Time’s long legs
Will always run
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Me, I can’t share my man o

I am no hypocrite so I won’t lie

I met a terror called jealousy

When I saw a taken-cuddling meant for me

I never knew its claws really lived deep down my guts

When it decided to show

It was like a lioness tearing my soul

There I got to know

That I can never share my man

No matter how the world forces sharing down my throat


Who wants to lick a sweet toffee

With many tongues at the same time?

Even hands won’t let flies on a teasing wound

Why will I hide tears in blankets

Like a thing so undesired

While what is mine lies in the bosom of another?

Me, I won’t lie o

I am no hypocrite

I can never share my man!

And no one can make me!


If I live in faithfulness

Always scenting my temple in wakefulness

It will be a curse

If my heart weeps

While my head speaks of some religious rules

I will rather be let loose to search

Than hypocritically smile and hand over my treasure

Only nothings are shared with ease

So, know that I will never!

Oh can never share my man


Let she that feels not the fire

Of the burning painful flames so dire

Seeing hers in another arms

Throw a jab at my truth

I could care less how others choose to live

I know me

And I feel me

I will never be a hypocrite

Because I know that I can never!

Never share my man

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Dawn can’t begrudge the cock’s crow
It is its companion
It is its friend
It maybe its enemy
But it makes it a star
As some wake to see it
At the sound of a cock’s crow

Lawn cannot begrudge dawn
It owes it part of its colour
Like the bed of a princess
Its spread is thanks to dawn’s tears
Although it makes it overgrow and calls for a knife to slit some throats
Many are attracted by the help of dawn

We are mostly dawns or lawns
We need to notice all sides of the coin
We need to bow
When the stakes are low
Lest we take blows
For something which can kowtow
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Twisted tattered tingly things

Taunt in towering tormenting tests

Tempers tower in trending taps

A tactful treasure is needed to turn


Turn or burn

Taint or train

Tag or tailor

It takes a treasure to be traced in tests

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015 




Choices are like riddles of God

He sprinkles them and allows minds to discern

Yesterdays beget todays

Todays are mothers of tomorrows

And todays are us

Kwaku Ananse’s naughty decisions in Ghanaian folktales

Earned his generations “the cunning tags”

There is no one God for every being

If we are all God’s children

Then wisdom, like that of ants

Will give hints to right discernments

And like the Biblical Ruth,

No persuasion can steer your off your great destiny

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



A weird thing, in Accra,  sat
Sputtering and mumbling “tar”
Until it said it was called day

Day which was new
But had many problems dew
The first after a terror flood

It is going to be used
It won’t get the privilege

Of seeing the lazy in action

It would die
Without anyone acknowledging it
Its Wednesday cursed it before its conception

So found in sat mood
Saying “tur” in musing
It is a day so unfortunate
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 6th May 2015



“I love you,

I can’t live without you,

You are so beautiful!

Hey no one compares to you

I will die for you

I am so into you

Hush and feel my heart beat for you”

These are old rags Buried by some ancestors

Who died thousands of years ago

A real lover is one who mimics not

So stop digging into mouths decayed in tombs

And be real, as real as the sun pinches the sky

With its rays to make it wince in light



How delightful it will be

If you feel hatred  and you say it sweet

And whip in lust to fetch the smile

And kill the frown

To plant seeds of trust



Oh! How delightful it will be

If flatulence flies in murderous smell

To dig the demons hidden under packs of facades

Only for days to clear the foulness

For the sweetness of being oneself to force happiness



Oh! How delightful it will be

If none fakes and wears lies

And all cry, dance, play and say it all

In raw forms

Forcing ingenuity to return from its hidden space

Too bad, everything is draped in clothes of fakeness

Culminating into duplications of déjà vu

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015



Walking through the doomy path

Of jumping in my final bed

I stumbled on a being so dirty

Resting on earth in clothes of naught


Funny how I saw the face of God

And felt what He really has in store

No words did come from the mouth so sore

But his posture did ease all my bore


I am that one who has it all

Beauty, smartness, lovers and all

Even my ridicules wear heavy smily masks

Why will I jump when a pawn does live?


I really did see the face of God

The face of God in a loco head

Someone might say he does live not

But his life has saved a wretch like me


I know his life is a testament for all

All who seek to take  the final fall

I have seen God not in the sky above

But in an uncanny way carrying a crazy head

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015






Price of dice

Once, twice, thrice

No six? Then lies

We cast as many as we should

Winning few and always losing more

But once, twice, thrice the dice

We jump like mice

Being chased by cats

Until we enter the zone of eternal dark

In the womb of the tomb

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015




There are pointers

That ingratitude, like breath, is inherent

And is produced by the human heart

Like bile is produced by liver


Let mouths wavering mute for a minute

And listen to reason

As validity, like water to the dying thirsty,

Is all


Why will a teething child

Bite mercilessly nipples which still feed

Once he or she is equipped with teeth

Which aids his or her chewing?


Why would teeth bite fingers

When it is in pleasurable chewing

When it is they who help food travel

To their mouths?


Innate, ingratitude

Sorrowful, its existence

Hurtful, its stings

But its existence pushes challenges

And adorn life with excitement and carefulness

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015


Solemly down
Deceiving teeth show like a mask
The soul like a burning child cries
For redemption
But outward appearance drowns its cries
Into the gallon of the filled tight heart
Crying hurts pour like torrential rains
A faint matured voice calls for hope
While a child-like voice emphatically calls for an end
An end of a beginning
Or an end to a disaster?
This dilemic pathway is way more than a twisted maths
Left or right?
Forward is a desert of unwalkables
Backward seems cowardly but promises relief while dangling a fear
A walking body with a suicidal soul
A mighty head hosting a tired breath
A fiesty heart with a fetal flaw
Neigh like a horse, oh no, the children watch
Suffocate in a parcel of white smiles
Until life sucks itself from the overused little frame
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



I dream of food
Like earth craves rain
And the sky does give
In its own time

I dream of school
Like vehicle crave fuel
The owner does fill
At the proper time

I dream of shelter
And like the tortoise
The earth gods give
Until pubics harden

I’m left to learn
But vanity I yearn
My parents are stern
My stomach do churn
I want to roam like an eagle so fierce
I want to swim like a fish wild
I want to shout aloud to fame
But provisions are preventables
I feel crippled

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



What if I don’t want to?
What if I don’t want to eat anything?
Will I be held at gun point and risk losing everything?

What if I don’t want to sleep?
What if I don’t want to sleep anywhere?
What if I don’t want to rest?
Will I be held at gun point and risk losing everything?

In the land of the living
No one’s hunger affects the other
No one’s sleeplessness concerns another
So eat
“I won’t eat”
“I Won’t sleep”
None can be forced
Eyes know when to close
Stomachs know how to rumble
Bullets and its synonymous weapons can only stop a threatened game
When well directed
Wills must never be tampered with,
If no being stands to be affected
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Ex gratia has met its militia
Its gun is lowered in front of Mahama

Although few mouths are opened in awe
The master, for once, aims to be fair

Will we see a parliamentary demonstration?

Ha ha ha haaaa, ho ho
No one is penalized for wearing “kuntunkuni” to a funeral ground
But wearing white to an aged’s funeral is to be commended
Because it is a mark of wisdom
In the cultural realms of Sikaman

Ex- gratia has met its militia
Kneeling in prayers
To be saved in Ernest
Ei! Kojo Gratia, did you not see alawa?
How it was killed with cries from many young mouths?
If you’re asleep in your room and your legs’
eyes roam the streets
Then be told of the execution of alawa
And know your death is good for triumph
So kill yourself in the hearts of your followers
Before the axe falls on your neck
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 201



Hopeful ears help fearful eyes
To pick on lies
And strip truth naked
To dress the lies 
To present them to mind
Banishing glaring truth
Into the evil forest of future regrets
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Burning and burnt

Bear same papa burn

But burning has hope

Burnt is lost

Be the best burning by swimming

Swimming in honest seas



Poor power pretends

Proud pets are penned

When its pretension pensions

Pom! Pawns then peeve pain’s

Power packages

Pom! Plain pests plucked like poisonous plants

So power the plosives

Not by being fake power pets

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015



ko ko ko ko koooooooooooo!



It must be the badluck

That is plaguing my life!

I will say no!

When you hear owls

Shouting in fear or jubilations in the night

Pause and think

Don’t you panic

You are the defaulter

If you only shed the worry

You wouldn’t feel this sorry

Leave the nightlifers be like a peaceful fellow

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Water left untouched for long, stinks

Foods rebel by punishing noses

When left for long

But some people need plain words

To decipher the little words

From the mouth of this small calabash


Knowledge must be a fountain

Flowing for all to see

And filling the holes beneath

Only to flow up and go down again

To restart the cycle

But most three leggeds have turned into one way streams

Oh God!

Aren’t you bored?


Brown wilting leaves

Sit on tall knowledge stools

Scaring green ones off the podiums

When their holes are dug,

Prepared and waiting to receive their leftovers

Oh God!

Don’t be bored


Is there a school beneath?

No, no no, just tell me

Are there higher institutions and organisations beneath?

There must be!


Maybe, just maybe,

There might be ambitious worms waiting to tap

From knowledge untapped

To spare the brains from rotting

If not, then I can’t understand the waste!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015 


Running sweats 

conceived by mating muscles

and mobility in tiredness


Chapped skin

like burstings of mud zones

whipped by hot sunshine


Palms calloused

like the skin of a rough tree

displaying wares hoping for money exchange


You realize nothing is easy

when you see frustrated breath

running through noses 

on their hind legs,

their heat beats that of fires hands down


There really are sun whipped beings

You have seen nothing yet

Until you step on the heart of Dagbon’s Aboabo

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Light upon my sight

Lighting the way

Blinding in brightness


Touch upon my patch

Soothing the pain

Hurting the lane

Remembering the future of scardom


If you are the shade

What do I do in your shifting?

Take it all? 

Storms, heavy rains, sunshine and all?

And take the fall?


Help me grow some

Yes, some leaves to shade me

When any shifting occurs

I think that would be fair

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Could the sky be regulated?

Sky tears, human fear

Sky tears, plants happily bear

Could the sky be regulated?

It blesses

And curses

Giving colds

And growing plants

It imprisons

And liberates

Imprisoning beings

And liberating flowers

Oh lover of discrimination

I shiver

Still ill by your touch

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Picture by Kent, the world on its hind legs
Picture by Kent, the world on its hind legs

As seconds speed into minutes

And minutes gallop into hours

As hours run into days

As days walk into months

As months cross over to years

Stagnant fears

Tend to stink

Sympathetic tears

Are given a wink

A giver today

May be a crucifier with time’s transitions

So get under the showers of hard work

And shower clean

To climb the ladder of success

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


It is a queer world

Where pain has a money cage

A queer world

Where the hungries fight

To see the fighting stage

A queer world, queer world indeed


It is a queer world

Where the voices get the choices

A queer world

Where pretenders get fast horses

Dressed in fortune

While the land screams for seeds


It is a queer world

Where are stomachs are neglected

A queer world

Where papers get to be worshipped

A queer world

Where all eat but few plant


There will come a day

When the earth will have the voice

And say “I have nothing

To feed the hands who took

And never replaced”

For now, I am observing

With my queer words being trash

In the eyes of the looking few

I see

I see from afar

I see from a near far

That this is a queer, queer world

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



The tree that is processed

Into toilet tissues

Did nothing to see and feel such horrors

Nothing is fair


Nothing is fair

The land which gives us food

Did nothing to carry horrors of its gift

Really nothing is fair


One who wants to play and is played

Needs no loud voice in mega phones

Neither doe he need buckets to cry into

Nothing is fair, nothing can be fair

In this twirling ball called earth

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Movies watching movies

Living movies sorrier than those on screens

Please watch yourselves!

Watch yourselves and stop the critiques

You are like woods on flames

Calling for rains for the coal-pot

Ha ha

Which pen stops writing to tell the other

It has a pointed tip?

It’s a shame really

You are hilarious movies

Very hilarious

So you need not be in front of screens

Parading yourselves as good critics

For if I am a comedy

You are complete tragedies

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Heads rightly occupied

Are like heaven with God

Who sends angels to protect


Hands rightly occupied

Are like golden hens

Who lay golden eggs


Mouths rightly occupied

Are like widely listened to radios

Which gains high dues


Legs rightly occupied

Are like expensive vehicles

Which drive beings to divine places


All parts rightly occupied

Are like blessings

Needing commendations


I say to

All rightly occupied


Mo ne nwumapa oooo”

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



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



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”