I met him! Yes, I bumped into Nkrumah
in my history book.
We sat down for coffee around the corner.
He had his black,
I went for my usual white and
down I gulped it with a mild cough.
I got myself an autograph.
He was one fine black brother.
Fathia's love, no wonder.
Back at junior high,
my history teacher, Mr. Humble Pie,
asked "Who was Nkrumah?"
"He was a black man,
most coloured of them all," I answered,
"He flashed his manhood when
others had turned eunuch,
when fear kicked them
flying over the couch."
A traitor to the white,
he pinched against them the
art they helped him master,
education.
Son of Nkroful, most anointed of them all.
He pinched them with self rule, now!
His compatriot roared,how!
They knew not his mission
'cause he was milles away from their vision.
A patriot, most charismatic of them all.
His tears and sweats ousted the intruder
for the Ghanaian to regain power.
He bequeathed unto my ancestors the name "freeborn."
With this ode his name I adorn.
"Ode to Nkrumah" is part four of our four-part series of poems on Kwame Nkrumah. Previous postings from the series can be read in our Archives.
3 comments:
Prince, Benjamin, Cosmas and Reggie, you guys have given me the reason to hope again in the future of African literature. I think you guys must give a lot of exposure to this website by involving CNN, ABC, GTV, BBC and Metro TV. It is time to let this light shine. Kwame Nkrumah, thank you you for the gift of foresight and conviction.
i'll tend to agree with vida and mariska.we place more emphasis on imagery:personification,metaphor etc.i think poetry is something beautiful that comes from the heart.we shouldn't always look out for imagery but the message and how beautiful it is crafted.i hear u gals
hey Reggie,
did you really sit with Nkrumah for that coffee? and also I never head that he liked the black, oh I get that now! what amazing poem you have bro.
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