To My Uncle Tarkwa Atta – A Tribute (28)

Lately,
I have been
pondering
this sacrilegious
madness
of those
whose fathers
usurped
our freedom
and peace of mind
and the rule
of law and
justice and
the memories
of our forefathers,
who would now
have our memories
of their crooked
and wayward
ways
whitewashed and
permanently etched
into our
traumatized
souls…
who would be
knighted into
sainthood
and morph into
our heroes
and gods…
and I am not
the least bit
amused;
and I am
incontinently
peeved;
and I am
irreparably
contused…
I shall not
be appeased –
alas,
I am thinking
of the facile
and abject
mockery to which
patriotism and
yeomanry
have been
reduced…
thus a Bernasko
does not measure
up to scale,
while a Rawlings,
Mills and
Mahama handily
dwarf the same –
a Danquah,
a Grant
an Adjei and
an Obetsebi
may not even
dare to try…
in this era of
thuggish decadence
mediocrity
is the new template
of excellence,
in which victims
plead guilty
to fanning flames
of tyranny,
and dead tyrants
and derelicts
are worshipped
as our
new Messiahs…
I am thinking of
our upended
priorities and
the suicide watch
on which
we have placed
ourselves,
lest our eyes
and minds
be open
to self-love
and pride…
lately,
I have been
pondering
this morbid obsession
with foreign
culture
technology
and labor,
and the sorry
stories they tell
about our garbled
sense of
identity
nationality
and
incurable
diffidence
to the world
abroad –
I have been thinking
around the clock
and beyond
about what we
can do to
restore
our faith in
the diligent use
of our minds
and limbs,
our love for
dignity and
honesty and
sacrifice…
yes,
lately,
I have been pondering
this quite inscrutable
burden of
blackness and
obstinate
backwardness
and our curious flair
for mutual animus
and collective
self-destruction…
and I am not
the least bit
amused –
8/9/12