When hunters’ hunts unveiled her

She sat in mystery like the virgin she was

Adorned by great forests

Clothed by beautiful trees

Surrounded by caring rivers

Being serenaded by great seas

As she sat on the much need riches

Scared at first, they sought to shoot

Then realized her worth

And sought to take

They then realized their defence

So sought to mesmerize

When it proved futile

They resorted to rape

How hurting!

Tearing her forests and uncovering her body

How hurting!

Using her vegetation to beat and subdue her

How hurting!

Raping Africa and breaking her golden hymen!

How hurting!

Leaving her a whore to be dug in times of need

How hurting!

The haunting thoughts of the African raped!

How hurting!

Being tutored to love the rape!

May God save her from these thoughts

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015




If you need to know

Why my skin is coal

I’ll bless you now

With some knowledge bow


Mama cooked me in her special pot

With fire from the sun

And work from her womb

Turning me in and turning me out


Yes, mama cooked me in her special pot

I knew no cot

Under the motherly palm

Whose roots are pillars unbreakable


Nanny palm fronds lay to welcome me

As I roasted and roasted

In love so divine

To burn the gems of my delicate skin


I was covered in black which the bright sun fears;

The melanin that none understands

A conundrum it is

But mama cooked me in her pot

To protect me and give me options


I could be like you if I go by creams

But my mama cooked me in her special pot

A special pot made like a priceless zone

By God Almighty

And I’ll never trade that for anything

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Supremacy dresses flawlessly

Wearing clothes saintly as a saint

Making up like a beautiful goddess

Hiding wrinkles beneath the pile


Under the skirt of supremacy

There is no mercy


Under the skirt of Supremacy,

Hides the shame of low confidence


Under the skirt of supremacy

Hides the fear of loss of pride


Under the skirt of supremacy

All fruitful holes are extinct


Under the skirt of supremacy

Lies the infectious wounds the world dreads


Under the skirt of supremacy

Nothing sits beside pain


Yet we yearn to possess supremacy

Just to unveil the veiled mess

We are beings lusting for beasts

Beasts which will not hesitate to devour us

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


In the land of Parts of Speech

All resolve my yearnings to teach

But indulge in verbal breach

Rendering me an outcast


See, they couple by inflections

And I couple by base, no inflections

My lonely sound bounce back in deflections

Because of the addition of ‘s’ to my name; ‘Shows’


Now Tables have labels

“All with inflections to the stables”

And I’m pulled among like unwanted cables

And gagged to stifle my lone status


All I wanted to tell

Was I’m like the ringing bell

Ringing without wind. I’m in a cell

Because I seem double in singleton


Nouns can never get verbs

If nouns do get verbs

And verbs do get nouns

Words would live in harmony in sentences

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Together as one
Fears run rampant
Down the streets
When words are lost and
Solace springs from thin air,
Molecular mornings ignite
Divisions uniting the sky,
Conjoining the lost,
Churning distant souls refined
Into something quite like you and I
Something can be nothing
Walking through thin air without a face
Taunting with blurred thoughts without a trace
Molecular afternoons ignite
Threatening to spark the world ablaze
With fire making the world shiver
In oneness, vaporising hurts
Vaporising colours and forcing the hands
Of you and I to hold, attracting our eyes
To see through this deceitful disguise. 
That one is one and two are lies.
No one’s missing anywhere.
The sky will sing
What real love brings
Above all cost.
A world engraved is all the same
And not a soul is lost
In space
So if we sit still usurping seats of superiority
We might end up as two in pieces
Blasted by the bombs of thoughts
Thoughts which shut their mouths
With cessation of breath
So let’s be darlings of reasoning
Holding hands like swans
Knowing the vastness of the sea
Most importantly, knowing we can’t occupy it all
J. Lievre (of and Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Veins hold each other

Tight, opening their arms to

Let blood flow for good


To make a being work

Veins forget their differences

And tirelessly work


A single break down

And all demonstrate for a

Hurried attention


A block at a point

 All stop, a rising notice

To save their own piece


Amazing how we

With thinking zones of many

Veins, fight as humans


Ingrates to the tee

Animals not deserving

Efforts of veins, THINK!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Had a duet with the sensational Lisa Ojanpera on theme Racism. This is a white and black blend, please enjoy and let the white and black clouds merge.Islamic Prescription for Racial Discrimination (2)
The sky is fuming madly
Hating our living badly
She neglects wind’s many pleas
And thunders us on our knees
Black clouds force to take full charge
White clouds force to take full charge
An intense meaningless war
Forcing pain and breeding sore
The inner voice sits peaceful, still
Waiting for the breaking of our will
Outside the war rages on a vast scale
Chaos the roar of this fierce tale
Black clouds force to take full charge
White clouds force to take full charge
Passions climax in hate’s rayless song
Vivid energy striking amongst the throng
Vivid energy strikes for the wrong
Unbearable voices sing mixed songs
On half the sky leaving the other bare
What senseless taste overrules our care?
Weak young leaves watch in frightened mood
Future leaders are made to plans of terror brood
Life like a river is stagnant in a racial gutter
Being pushed into the mouth of the earth vampire
Feeding us poison and bleeding us dry
Causing us to pool all the tears that we cry
We will take no more of divisive pyres
Burning our lives in the recalcitrant fire
Absorbing the energy in futile pain
Unify to stop the monsters gain
Black and white clouds become one
A variable storm causing evil to run
Imagine a divisionless sky
Who can concoct for it a lie?
Hugging the clouds to form as one
Hugging the sun to shine as one
Embracing thunder to rumble as one
Throwing lightening to light as one
And clearing in due time to the slate give
As the inheritors bow as predecessors take their leave
What a peaceful sky that will be!


Julia Manuel Photography
Julia Manuel Photography


How did God allow this?

Many bottles he made

Like the ingenious crafter

In his branding thoughts

Now it turns into a huge show

a show of beauty

A show of durability

A show of class

A show of geography

A show of war

Not what He bargained for

I know


We seem


We scream


We are

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



These natural black overalls

These natural white overalls

These natural brown overalls

These natural yellow overalls

Are just overalls like all overalls

We wear them to cover worldly alls

And take them off for earth to blend

Then our souls are seen as one

Who fights for packaging

When all they do is package?

We end up bickering for nothing

And neglect the purpose of our journey

I’m black, I white

I’m poor, I’m rich

I’m ignorant, I’m literate

Which soil, six feet under, knows these?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




Let our imaginations run wild

And for once dream 

With no thoughts of victimization

Nor victimising

Isn’t creation interesting?


Imagine how the white man felt

When he first saw the black man

Probably scared out of his wits

So scared, he took to his heels

Shouting of seeing a ghost

Tripping, falling, rolling over

But managing to get home

To probably collapse 

Only to wake, tell what he had seen

And be branded mad


Imagine how the black man felt

When he first set eyes on the white man

He must have been very terrified

Probably climbing the near tree

To observe what creature that is

Being careful not to be seen

When he got the chance

I’m sure he flew like an aeroplane

To his hut

To tell this unbelievable story

Feeling not the thorns that pricked his feet in flight


Now let’s just imagine

They bumping into each other for the first time

I’m sure you’re closing your ears to the screams


Probably collapsed

The first, which I presume to be the black,

Of course because it must have been his territory

Waking up and running like hell chases

Looking for the route to his house

Well, well, well.


Life is such an unbelievable existence

Being and seeing scaring us out of our wits

It’s a good thing we get to see our likes

Fight our thoughts only to realize we’re equal

Shake hands, mate and laugh on


Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014





What the world needs is colourless

What beings want is colourless

To live blameless



Our problems stem from our need to be colourless

Blacks, browns, red and whites need to be colourless

For all to be blameless


Superiority hates colourless

Racism hates colourless

Geography hates colourless

Only colourless will make all blameless


Colour fights colourless

Because its boastfulness can be trashed by colourless

Its words can be seized by colourless

Then peace will be brought by colourless



Let there be the god called colourless

Bring here the saviour called colourless

And make all blameless

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014














Africa is not a bush

It is also no country

There aren’t people living on trees

Houses, mansions, great architecture

And great minds are found in Africa

Which including its Island Nations

Are 54 countries in all


Africa is a continent

Like Asian Continent

And the European continent

And not a country

So one can be a Ghanaian

Who knows only about Ghana

And has never travelled across the continent

We are not the same

We have our differences

Just as other continents do


Africa is a continent

And not a country

All those who mistake the problems

Of one with the other

Must bow their heads in shame

For illiteracy is really a shameful disease

Go to the doctor of books and be cured


Africa is not a country

But a continent

Our traits are different

Our languages different

Our tones are different

Our lives so different

Our cultures are different

Our geographical locations so different

Although most of us have the priceless black skin


Just go straight to the books

And learn what needs be

Be blinded not by racism

And labelling

Africa is a continent

And not a country

Let those who think themselves schooled

Go and be schooled again

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Natural Africa










Upon their touch

Innocence developed eagle wings

And flew to a city of no return



Upon their touch

Nature became an artificial lion

Roaring in pollution of bodies


Upon their touch

The gods were thrown like rotten meats

Into the den of hungry hyenas


Upon their touch

Wealth of life were neglected

For meaningless wealth of materials


Upon their touch

The beauty of life was stained

Because the native Africans saw they were truly naked

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014










They are like us

Eyes like ours

Hands like ours

Mouths like ours

Legs like ours

But why do they act like apes?

Let’s see


They farm to eat

Wear less to battle the air

Look dirty and care not

Act innocent

Like there’s no care in the world

They like idiots exchange salt for gold

What can we do?


In a world where riches rule

They definitely are a working force

We must not let go

So let them sell themselves

And leave us to subdue

They’re the goats who need a herd

We will be here and help their cause

To feed and read

And open their eyes

With our books of God

As they work our lands










They might be like us

But they are not us

What we feel

They sure look too strong

To feel

Machines of some sort they seem

So break their legs

Because they have no egos

Break their chests

For they have no eyes

Break their thoughts

For they have no brains

And ship them off to our far far farms










We are doing good

By us

We are doing good

By them

We are doing good

By all so no need to take ourselves

On guilt trips.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




From the soothing balm of shea

To the ginger, pepper suppository

Through to hunger which was queer

And quenched with thick breakfast of ‘coco’

With plenty sunshine, my happiness was sealed

By the creator


I, like an angel, knew no colour

I knew no difference

I knew humans, black, white, yellow and whatever

And I would’ve never hesitated to play Ubuntu

With either as I saw all human parts play same functions

But for the tutelage of grown livers


I was born a proud African

But each tutoring severed a part of my pride

Replacing it with disdain

I know monkeys live in the forest

But I was thrown bananas and told monkeys are my kin

I know not whether my smooth skin is always seen with too much hair


I was told of the limitedness of my capabilities

The servantude and beggitude I was made for by beings I could swear

Had the complexion of pigs, I was clothed with shame as they used me for pennies

Now I know what I missed as an African Child

Please give the others freedom, give them books

Give them knowledge and soothe their rage


Give them wings, give them the skies

Leave the trees and help them fly

Up, up, up to the sky and beyond

Curb their insecurities and make them the beings they are

I lost my chance as an African child

And I grieve



Two wrongs can never make a right

Please let the new generation be free

Mama, Papa, brothers and sisters

Leave the chains which chain your minds

As many of the ‘humans’ have set rolling balls of freedom

For if our minds become free, we will be free indeed.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


The painful and humiliating songs

Sung by our forefathers

Who were classified as machetes and shields

Take endless journeys through my mind


Thoughts of the Fante gallants

Subdued by harmless guns

As they plead

“M’agya etu, mepawokyew

Menkum me ai! Mere ke sonkyi maaba”

To mouthless guns kill my spirit over and over again


Thoughts of the great Asantes

Mesmerised by the taste of salt

Which abounds on the shores of their lands

And exchanging precious gold for them

Are like needles piercing my pride in thousands of ways


Thoughts of others conniving to trade

With Angelic Satans and profiting

At the brutality of their own blood

Kill me a thousand times each day


I aim for no revenge

I just hope for these thoughts

To take their journeys to the other side

Where  boastful superiors pride

On the blood of my forefathers

And aim to live up to their legacies


Let us see then

After they wear these thoughts

Whether they can look into eyes of supposed monkeys

And still act their shameful selves

Without thinking themselves pigs.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


NOTE: I do respect everyone who deserves to be respected. This poem is in no offence to the white folks who respect themselves and humans in general. I do have white friends and I love them so much, but hearing the disrespect of blacks and the name calling by some people hurt me to no end, hence the poem, thoughts of the persona may come across as harsh but many provocations are harsher than this.



I am a black chalk

Chalks of all colours

Let’s join hands and draw a painting to stalk.

A painting to stalk inferiority complex,

A painting to stalk superiority,

A painting to stalk ethnocentrism

A painting to stalk racism

And haunt them until they land

In the traps of their hunters

Let’s give those hunters food,

And ourselves some peace for good.

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014