The Children Raised Hell.

You ask who we are, you ask where we're from. You wonder how our mind works, why we do what we do, why we're not more like you.
You ask who we are.
We were sold even before we were owned. Descendants of the slaves of old, but the chains of old no longer bind us. instead of metals and steel, we are reeled in by the browns and the greens- they buy us. We are labelled inappropriately, classified insultingly, and disregarded obviously. Patronised by everyone who thinks they are older so they are wiser, the thinly veiled amusement makes the rejection seem nicer.
You ask who we are.
We have been made a race of actions without thought, we sit for hours in front of a board with no question to what we are taught. We chew and pour, you feed us more, and you call those clever who are more stupid than before. In case you didnt know let me inform you that information unprocessed is information wasted, what use is it having a generation building a nation on the basis of shit they dont understand? The pressure for a first class degree sits on our shoulders like fur coats, and were in a tropical climate- we dont need the extra heat around our throats. First class degree holders are revered like they are gifts God loaned us, yet put them face to face with practicality and they cannot produce shit the first class showed us.
Some of us though are the line breakers, although we dont just break the line, we disregard your opinions about propriety and what is fine.
You ask who we are. 
We are who you were before you sold your beings for a steady supply of the green. We are the carriers of your ideas that you shoved into closets because compromise was closest. We are Kwame Nkrumah and we are just as power hungry, the difference being that we will not let the hunger for power run we. We are JJ Rawlings but we will not use violence to prove our points, no. But that doesnt mean that we wont fight. We Are Mahatma Gandhi, but we will not sit down and stay hungry when others havent eaten- no sit down strike. We will eat and be full, and when we are satisfied we will stand up and fight. We are a movement of minds, a tribe of thinkers. We are Ashanti, Ga Ewe, Ibo, pseudo-French, Zulu, Swahili, but we dont care. We do not let a label of tribe scare us into refusing to share ideas. We love our culture, but over that we love Africa. But we dont love your Africa. We are not impressed with what you have created, a struggle over power that is worthless, a struggle over a continent that is an insult.
We do not share your dream of a better Africa. You see, you try to sell us the same lie the UGCC tried to sell Gold Coasters. There is no better Africa. We do not want a better Africa. We want a new Africa, an Africa that is not prejudiced by narrow minded views. We are an Africa that understands more aptly the power of music and arts on society. We are an Africa that aspire to be poets and writers over doctors and bankers. We are an Africa that appreciates money, and will get it, we just wont sell our and our childrens souls to earn it. We are of the Africa that will not judge a person based on their hairstyle, where an education is not determined on speech style. We are of an Africa that does not care for what you teach, that is sick of watching you idolise the lies you preach.
You ask who we are.
We are the God lovers and the Bible readers. We are the ones who have discovered for ourselves the truths the Bible can teach us- we are the ones who no longer will let you mislead and decieve us.
You ask who we are.
We are the concious rappers and art lovers. We are the ones who will occasionally blow tree, but we will not allow that to change or redefine the truth we see or the people we be. We are the disrespectful ones who will not tow your line of hypocrisy, we are the different ones who will call a spade a spade because a spade is what we see. We are the chalewote and skinny jeans wearers, we are the ones you hate to see because we contradict everything you'd want your children to aim to be, and yet you struggle in nine to fives while we write a few lines and take your money. We are what you secretly wish to be, we are the bold, exhibiting real bravery. we are the ones who don give two sh*ts and a f*ck about yankee, because what we will be is not based on where we are. And ironically we are the ones who they never bounce the yankee visa..
We are youth, we are smart, we dont give a damn about your politics because it is a filthy form of art.
You ask who we are.
We are the leaders of tommorow who did not wait to lead tomorrow- we take our stand today. We are the 'stupid' ones, the rude ones, the unapproved ones. We are the smart ones who will pay your first class degree holders- we are the empire owners.
Why do you still ask who we are?
The adults raised the children; the children raised hell.
We are your children.

What wants to be written.

Before I actually opened this blog, I had so many 'wow' ideas about blogging- the kind of deep things I'd write, my perspective on social issues, stuff like that.


Then I opened the blog.

 It took me about an hour of cafe time to even figure out what I wanted to call the damn thing.

Its taken me almost that long to try and post my first post. Sad innit?

Anyway, while brainstorming about whether I wanted to talk about the Ghanaian hypocrisy or err....sorry, I forgot that other thing, I kind of stumbled unto something relatively deep.

and here it comes. I realised that being deep doesn't come by choice.
 yeeeaaahhhhhhhh....*feeling cool*

Ok well at least not for me. See, what I mean is this. I cant turn on my moments of intense thought. Like if maybe I'm in town, and a see a billboard. Immediately I'd have a lot of ideas about advertising, the power of advertising, the seeming lack of power of Ghanaian adverts- (hmmm...wait, now there's another idea for a blog post) Anyway.
So I'd think I could blog that. Or write about that. I might even get a few really catchy phrases and stuff, plan the whole article and stuff. Then I'd sit myself behind a p.c.

And blank. For real. I'd have nothing AT ALL to write. I may still remember all my catchy phrases and quotes. but for whatever reason, the idea would either lose all its glamour and sparkle- or I'd just blank out.
The same happens with my poetry. It amuses me when people say- write about this topic. or- wow, you could get a poem out of that, dont you think? Id be smiling like yeeeeaaaah I probably could and thinking- I wish I could.

I don't choose my poetry. I don't choose my topics. I dunno, I guess I write what wants to be written then. How many times have I not sat down with a pen and a notebook and said, I'm going to write about so and so today. How many papers have I  not ripped out on these occasions. (I'm not asking you though, that's rhetoric)

Errr...I just forgot where I was going with all this. Anyway, if some of you are expecting deep insight and thought provoking blogs here, please keep expecting. I'm sure one of these days I'll get a deep moment. Or not. Whichever. But I'll pretty much just write what wants to be written.

(This is a subliminal message to all those people who have asked me to write poems for them).


Oh yeah, I just remembered what I was going to write about earlier. It was about gay people and society. Ah well.