Ghana

Oh Ghana; our beloved country.
Country blessed with countless treasures
But peregrinated through thick and thin
From Gold Coast to Ghana.
Pains and anguish crown you;
Inhumane and tyranny were your rewards
With thy pride at the mercy of the white masters
And unabatedly suffers your progenies at the wicked hands of the colonial masters.

Exploited are your valuables
Revered and held in high esteem
Like a raped-virgin
Whose pride boast no more.
Gold and descendants stolen
under your nose in a broad day light
At a price of Mirrors, guns and metal knives thrive

Through the batter trade by The white masters.
To the Western World your children were taken, they

Drudge like a donkey on a large farm
Oppressed, and shackled like animals taken to the slaughter house

Languishing in pain in the name of your colonisation like the apartheid era in South Africa.

But thy sons chants hallelujah at last
Knowing the hour of freedom and respite arrives
On the 6th of March 1957 when Nkrumah declared your independence

When he yelled like a thunder and lighting
And proclaimed you're capable of managing thy own affairs.

Truth be told! Full of euphoria are your sons
Because never-ending freedom and democracy they enjoy

For they now have a voice.
By: Felix Kwaku-Dua