Gyire Brian serves us with this heart touching piece on situations we find ourselves in as a country known for hospitality . Enjoy this piece below.
Ooh!! mother Ghana, mother to all but the most vulnerable of her own
The street child homeless in his/her own home
I stood in the sun basking like a morning lizard savoring the seducing rays of the sun as they hit my thin brown skin.
Cold moist breeze from the Eastern had numbed my senses.
As I recovered from a night of terrorizing shivering cold,
Begging faces of straying children pierced the balls of my puffed eyes.
The sight of which awoken me to the deserting child of Israel.
Only he had manner but wanted kenkey in its place.
The straying child I saw was a sore sorry sight to see;
She was filled with hunger, dripping with thirst and itch for a bath.
The rags draping from her shoulders snarled as she walked.
Then I saw a feted girl clad in twin snarling rags.
Oh! Rugged rags must be the fashion of our day.
Must the street child suffer while we hospitalize our homeland?
Have we so shelved our Bibles not to have read Lazarus’ neighbor?
Or is individualism the genesis of our new genetics?
Man has lost touch with humanity and society has failed to socialize.
The stray child this morning was a shorn worn wearied beggar
Clinging to the cold hope that a coin might fall in her palm.
Must we harden our hearts with a gluttonous greed for wealth and emblind ourselves with false showiness of social media?
Hmm! social media, I don’t know who she is but she’s taken our best media to socialize
Making us forget those who need our words and warmth.
She has rubbed us of sleep-time, work-time and social-time.
How can we see the stray child when we’re ‘selfieing’ and ‘snapchatting’?
How can we see the hopeless morning shadow trailing behind the straying child?
Can we not see the bold shameless shadow of the afternoon straying boy?
Have the prison bars dimmed the faces of the stray men at dusk?
Well, night shall come upon us all when men will be snatched and wives raped.
Oh! poor little, straying in the morning, shamelessly brave at noon, hardened at dusk, strayed at night to retire within barring confines
Where they’ll be called prisoners.
Who’ll wake us from this slumbering blindness?
To smile towards the straying child,
To talk to the straying youth,
To reason with the straying man?
Who’ll call on us to get in touch with society?
Society now is a hand of cards
And ‘To Socialize’ has lost its meaning.
By; Gyire Brian K. A