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WHEN IT HITS!

When  it hits!

When  it all  hits you early  in the morning and  you realise you’re Ghanaian, 

After  praying  to God, several  nights. 

And  you wonder  “doesn’t this  man listen? “

When  the cries  of a baby hits  your ear drums sharply  in an attempt to swing  your mood

When  the bristles  of the broom made  from palm branches hit  the floor, and start flooding  your sensitive ears with Unthinkable cacophonies. 

When  you hear  Maggi instead  of onga, 

Then  you think  to yourself;  palms spread across  your face. 

“The  jargon  of a new  dialectic.”

Then  you wander  into your own  world and find no  petty annoyances. 

You’re  caught up  in that cloud  until….

You  hear your  name in a screech, 

It’s  as if  you’ve been  hit with a hammer  on the head. When you  try to explain yourself  and your mother shuts you  up, 

All  of a  sudden; she’s  now a time traveller 

Speaking  of mistakes  you committed,  a year ago, 

Maybe  even a  decade, soaring  through your past , present  and future. Oh how they exaggerate!

And  when she’s  done, she returns  to the present day, 

Undefeated,  untouched and  pretends like nothing  ever took place. 

If  she offended  you or not, 

Who  cares.  I mean.  Wo y3 Ghana  ba. 

Night  falls, you  wait on your  parents to finish dinner, 

Then  you continue  with your life  of servitude. 

Then  you wander  off again into  your own world. 

Think  of all  the riches  thereof, the  power, the fame.  

Goodness,  is that why  we get so selfish  and greedy sometimes? 

Oh  the joys  of being a  Ghanaian child  I sing. 

I  tell  of the  Ashanti pride 

The  Ewe proof  of power

The  Northern  strength 

The  western-boast-of-the-best

The  eastern  tide 

The  southern  and central  touch. 

All  of them  boast of greatness  and of greatness we are  made

Sew  our old  ways for us  that we may wear them  under our new garments 

As  for the  ways of our  fathers and mothers, our  food and cloth 

Our  drink  and gloss 

They  are like  our GTP-timeless 

They  stand through  it all. 

Ayekoo. 

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Courage Bansahhttps://ghdispatch.com
I am all that you heard about me

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