WHAT HAPPENS TO A DREAM DEFERRED? - LANGSTON HUGHES

WHAT HAPPENS TO A DREAM DEFERRED?

DOES IT DRY UP,

LIKE THE RAISIN IN THE SUN?

OR FESTER LIKE A SORE -

AND THEN RUIN?

DOES IT STINK LIKE ROTTEN MEAT?

OR CRUST AND SUGAR OVER -

LIKE A SYRUPY SWEET?

MAY BE IT JUST SAGS

LIKE A HEAVY LOAD

OR DOES IT EXPLODE?

EDUCATION, OUR RIGHT

 I side with those who are of the opinion that education should take a holistic shape, empowering the mind, the soul and heart. There are thousands of children in Ghana who dream of becoming a doctor, a police officer, a pilot, a bank manager and so on. But, when you look at the trend of our educational sector, you would no choice but to painfully come to the conclusion that quality education has become the preserve of the affluent.

When you take a stroll through the streets of Accra Central, the scenes of neglected children is simply overwhelming; you either see children walking bare-chested on this cold weather or some delightfully filling their famished stomach on undernourished food. To survive, fairly grown ones have to resort to stressing means to make a living. In the Accra metropolis, there are 120 kindergarten schools, 359 Primary schools, and 428 Junior High Schools. In 2001, the Ghana Statistical Service estimated that approximately 27.2 percent of children aged 5-14 years in Ghana work. Worldwide, 100-150 million children live independently on the streets.

Neglected children are left with potentials for two things; positive and negative. The positive aspect would be quite beneficial to us but the negative is what would some years to come threaten the peace and stability of society. Edward Evereth, expressing his opinion on education, said ‘education is a better safeguard of liberty than a standing army’. This is absolutely true. When children are denied of their right to education, either formal or informal, what options are we providing them?

WHO IS AN AFRICAN?

WHO IS AN AFRICAN?

Who is an African?

Is it the one who prefers tooth brushes to chewing sticks?

Is it the one who prefers suits to traditional clothes?

Is it, I ask,

The one who engages in monogamy and not polygamy?

Is it the one worships at the church and not the shrines?

Is it the one who is dark-skinned but thinks, plans, and calculates in English or French?

My confused mind presses, who is an African?

The one who acts against the spirit of pan-africanism?

Or,

The one who amasses public wealth at the expense of the people?

Or, maybe,

The invisible hand that stirs up social chaos on the continent?

Or, probably,

The one who believes paradise abounds in Western countries?

Well,

Is an African the lazy one who attributes his social misfortunes to the government?

Is it, the one who cheats to succeed?

Is it, I ask,

The one whose soul is inundated with low-self esteem, confidence, and self pity?

Africa is a continent with conditions similar to those in other continents, the solution lies in paradigm shift, and firm believe in God and ourselves. furthermore, we must never stop pressing for accountability from our leaders.

I LOVE TO LOVE YOU

THE BRANCHES OF TREES STRUGGLES WITH THE WIND,

SO IS OUR LOVE WRESTING AGAINST OPPOSITION,

AUGUST'S INCESSANT RAINS AND BREEZE SYMBOLISES,

THE GLIAL CELLS BINDING OUR EMOTIONS TOGETHER,

PREFERENCE TO ABIDE IN YOUR HEART IS MY PRIORITY,

DESIRE TO INHALE YOUR PRESENCE IS MY ASPIRATION,

PERCEPTION OF YOUR SHADOWS IS MY SUPPLICATION,

I IMPLORE YOU,

TO PRE-OCCUPY YOURSELF WITH THE MOMENTS WE SHARED,

NEVER NEGLECT ME,

PAMPER ME WITH YOUR LOVE AND CARE,

MAKE ME SECOND TO GOD,

THESE ALPHABETS DOESN'T SUFFICE MY EXPRESSION,

BUT WHAT OTHER ALTERNATIVE PREVAILS?

ALWAYS PUT IT AT THE BACK OF YOUR MIND,

THAT,

I LOVE TO LOVE YOU.

IF - RUDYARD KIPLIN

Rudyard Kiplin

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
-- Rudyard Kipling 

Copied from www.atokd.com, a blog site owned by one of the seasoned journalists and writers in the world. You can log on and check things for yourself.

QUICK DELICACY FOR SINGLES

What name do you suggest we give to this delicacy? I know a lot of you would be completely stunned to see me delve into the corridors of cooking. But, for your information, i’m an exceptional A-class rated cook! You can decide to believe it or not.

Now, i’m going to introduce you to a delicacy with immeasurable singularity. A delicacy that would not make you worry about marriage if single, or miss your spouse if divorced. Let’s get to the kitchen!

The basic prerequisite for sumptuous meals is fresh ingredients. Though this meal may look familiar to you if you’ve lived in the slums before or you’re still living there, i bet it is profoundly unique.

Most often, when we cook plain rice, we rush to Sister Atswei’s place to get some fried fish and pepper to go with it. But that’s too complex and time-wasting.

We will need the following ingredients for our meal;

·         50p worth of edible oil

·         Two (2) cups of rice

·         Beef (less fatty)

·         Green pepper

·         Large onions

·         salt

·         Clean water

To start with, put edible oil on fire and allow it some few minutes to simmer. Cut the beef into cube shapes and give it the fry of its life. Frugally slice the onions and green pepper, and add to the simmering oil. Stir at regular intervals to allow for uniform fry of ingredients.

If you are a lady, this delicacy goes with Beyonce’s “All the single ladies”. If a man, R. Kelly’s “A woman’s threat”.

Don’t you think we’ve been too harsh on the ingredients on the fire? Now, let’s cool these inmates of hell with some reasonable amount of water. Nah, wait a minute. Let’s put the thoroughly washed rice into it first. Stir and ensure that the ingredients are madly in love with each other. Then, add the water and salt. Taste, to see if the salt meets your taste.

We have to wait about 8 minutes to enjoy our delicacy. But waiting naked like that is boring, don’t you think, dear? So why don’t we reflect and ponder on this food for thought from an American writer called Thoreau. To quote him, “If a man does not keep pace with his companion, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer”.

Food is ready! Where is my plate?

MOULDING MOULD

I would’ve put my last bet on Betty,
Betty Mould,
Current Attorney General of Ghana,
But my desired shape which i preferred her to take,
Has disappointingly attained fiction,
Parochial party aspirations and sentiments are gradually,
Moulding Mould,
Into a shape,
That would make her poorly marketable,
And gutter her reputation,

The prayer of the humble citizens of Ghana,
People,
Whose unpalatable livelihood would be threatened,
Should ‘fear and panic’ metamorphosed into something unspeakable,
Their prayer is simply this,
Mould, mould your own self,
Assume the shape you desired,
Refuse to dance to party tunes,
Ignore wide manipulative eyes,
Because, inevitably,
When you turn icy,
It is your records and achievement,
That would make you spicy.