I was born into a world of greens and browns, blues and white.
Until it became black.
It became so dark I couldn’t even see my palm stretched out in front of me.
I was raised in a place where we rise up to the crow of the early rising Akok):
A place where birds are free to raise a melodious tune;
A place where the life of everything, even the tiniest of mpatakaw matters.
I was part of a civilization where the trees were evergreen;
The soil in different shades of browns and proud bright redness.
A place where water was always clean, had healing powers and filled with the tastiest enam.
A place where the children danced as the red, red soil drank thirstily the nso that the Odumankuma Nyame pours from above.
And, that place was a lovely sight to behold.
Then, while growing up, the Akok) stopped waking us but a shrill sound from a small fancy-box-like object did and we called it a phone.
Our children no more danced happily under Odumankuma Nyankopon’s showers for fear of flu.
And the red, red earth got too full to drink up the water the showers gave it.
The river’s all dried up and the sea no longer produced the tasty enam it once did.
Our women no more fancy their deep and shiny tuntum skin colour but find beauty in the broni woman’s colour.
Our civilization I never thought will fade off has slowly been washed away.
But, what can we do?
It’s all part of the growing up…
Nso: water (rain)
Odumankuma Nyame: an attribute to God
Odumankuma Nyankupon: an attribute to God