A Tribute To The Teacher

Men rise and fall like the winter wheat, but these names will never die!

If they ever tell my story, let them say:

I loved my country;

I loved my profession;

I loved my student;

I gave my all to my student;

If they ever tell my story, let them say:

The country I loved killed me;

The student l loved killed me;

My employer killed me.

If they ever tell my story, let them say;

I lived in the time of contempt against teachers;

I was pitched against Ghanaian parents;

I was told to be dealt with by parents if I caned their wards.

But let it be known that:

I didn’t cane for pleasure;

I could not sit by and idly fret while ‘innocent’ student goes astray;

I tried to correct him;

Little did I know that my good intent to correct him walked hand-in-hand with my doom;

They contrived, orchestrated and designed my death, while I had no malicious intent;

They were not content so they never spared my comrades who tried to contain the situation. Comrades, I am sorry you were affected, but I wish you convalesce soon.

Tell Mama I am sorry, tell Papa I am sorry, for not living longer enough to cater for them after they struggled to make me succeed.

I am sorry for a boy who is yet to sit for BECE to have terminated my life, with an open connivance of his mother in whose interest I did what I did.

Mama don’t cry, Papa don’t cry, for the whole world has seen that you made me succeed in life;

Let the mother of the boy who killed me rather cry, for she does not know what life has for her child who has never written any external exams before.

Mama, Papa, as I lay to sleep, I say God bless you.

May my soul rest in peace!

Composed by Sheikh (Bob Wise)

W.B.M.Z.S.H.S

Old Tafo-Akim.