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27.02.2015 Feature Article

I Will Tell Nkrumah

I Will Tell Nkrumah
27.02.2015 LISTEN

I WILL TELL NKRUMAH

I will tell Nkrumah! I will unburden these heavy matters of the heart here at the crossroads where our people sipped nectar from our veins and make our problems never-ending rivers

KwameNkrumah
I will tell him his nation he gave us, the Land of my birth, where my umbilical cord was planted, whose blood flows through my veins who shall be the Land of my death is being messed up.

I will tell him the country he bought with the blood of his sweat, the sweat of his work and the work of his slavery is left like a ship without a captain or a captain without a compass. The falcon cannot hear the falconer any longer with the okra plants growing taller than the farmer & the farmer can't bend them either.

Everyone does what he likes. Institutions are not under any control. The drunken monkey can poke his index finger into the nostrils of the palm-wine taper. That is the state of his country.

I will tell Nkrumah! I will tell him how the 4th Republic Parliament is in the state of jocoseness living the weightier matters in-discussed.

The nation's payroll is fill with living ghosts and we await for the very people he drove off the land to come and fix the mess for us.

The nation has been plunged into corruption; bottom-top. The givers say the takers are corrupt and they are innocent. How?

When in tears he asked me where are the institutions to fight the menace will I in a fainted voice tell him the whole institutions are as weak as a day old baby. Cos they don't know no one catches a ghost in a deathtrap neither do they know no one binds the mysterious AZIZA with a rope. AZIZA is the owner of the forest where rope was born.

The wheel of justice turns so slowly on them but got the cheetah's legs to run faster when it comes to the case of the boy who stole the AKPADOKUI in the market. That is the state of his country.

I will tell Nkrumah! I will tell him I'm an repented Ghanaian & Africana whose memory can't fade into oblivion of the blood-strings songs of the warriors to gain freedom for us. But is his country as free as the eagles and sparrows of the air? No!

With cup in hand do we go on our knees demanding from the people he told: “The African man is capable of managing his own affairs.”

I will tell him what those people say in in their minds; 'This is the country of the man who said the African man can manage his own affairs, his own country can't even manage its own, how then Africa?'

When his anger stir up like a virgin blood to bravado will I soothe it with sweet ritual wine that mature in the mouth. I will tell him.

I will tell Nkrumah! I will tell him the sense of patriotism has faded off. Like how the Roman Father loves his rosary his people are no longer in love with their nation as such.

The people who on their campaign trips tell us they want to serve us turned to be served by the people who put them there with their tax money, the chief servant. They live like the Arabian Kings.

I will tell him how the government pretends to be paying workers and workers pretend to be working. I will tell him how I have to walk in the dark to meet him cos darkness has plagued his Land. Power rarely stays to power the Black Star to continue to be the shining star of Africa.

Like the Rome lion roar in Zoar, so do his people about their problems on the airwaves and after giving them public attention for a week they are left to rest like the sleeping dog. Some say it is the best course to chart cos if we are to resist the oppressors' rule with all our wills and mights, it will result into bloody harvest welcoming the vultures and crows purveyors sharpening their talons and beaks.

I will tell him. When I did and he turned his back towards us like God unto the Israelites, will my resounding shout come; 'forsake us not my ancestor for I have a dream.

I have a dream there is hope for our Land. For when I see the crop of the emerging youths, I see light at the end of the tunnel. I have hope for the country. We can make our country work again.

The just course shall we follow, the broken walls shall we rebuild, the fallen banners shall we raise up again and the pride for our motherland shall be our motivation. Yes we can, we must and we will.'

When my eyes are misted with tears, and the tears having free flow down my cheek, I know with the handk'chief he used that day at the Polo Ground of 6th March, 1957, will my tears be dried off with his voice whispering: 'WEEP NOT MY CHILD, WEEP NOT MY CHILD, WEEP NOT MY CHILD for you are among the chosen to make it happen, WEEP NOT MY CHILD.'

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https://divsonekblog.wordpress.com/2015/02/26/i-will-tell-nkrumah/

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