To Monsieur Blaise Campaore, is that correct? Well never mind, just mind this. I took time to compose a little hymn for you. But errhhh, it’s not just for you alone but also for your kind who never want to leave power but remain lifetime rulers. For a young man like me you do not show good example koraaa. And it’s got me a little confused. Erm, why wouldn’t you follow the steps of men like Mandela or even our own Rawlings? You must have been that small bullying boy who would always want his way and would keep holding on to that play toy, never letting go so that a younger brother or sister or even an older sibling could play with too. I reckon, you could hold so tight to such toys you would even go to bed clinging to them. To wake up in the morning brimming with victorious satisfaction. But then again I remember that this little hymn is not for you alone, therefore I must send word out there to those who, apparently, must have been like you when they were growing up too.
Why do you guys like power like that? I mean just why do you like power like that? I thought uneasy was the head that always wore the crown. That you guys are so fatigued you would readily welcome any help to offload this heavy crown. In your case, Monsieur, I thought you must have been so tired to the point of death you would readily welcome the help. Seriously. Four terms of office. Twenty-Seven years in all. That must have weighed you down and in need of some help but errh, you like power, and why is that? Is it because of the returns? I hear it’s a lot. This one, even the MPs in my home testify greatly. The people call that position cocoa season for most of those MPs. You know cocoa and the cash it accrues. But then I still ask why you guys like power like that. For me, if it’s neither fear that keeps you there or the love of the returns that becomes so hard to let go which makes you want to still be there, then your passion for your country must be out of this world. Forgive me if I’m going off because it beats my imagination. I was raised to fear God. I don’t like selfishness. So I am careful not to liken you that woman who wants to be the only community fish seller. Yeah den tins some.
But one thing you always seem to forget is that, when water is kept long in a bottle it smells. I bet you never have heard this adage said like my mom did. Massa if u did eh? You should hear my mom say this, and succinctly remember that your cup will soon be full, you would repent like tomorrow is day of rapture. Even water ooo, it smells when it is kept in a bottle for so long. Just imagine some other liquids like urine. But you people seem always to forget and do not care. We all have our ends to somethings which comes sooner or later. In the case of mortals its even sadder. Even Methuselah died and he was no king. Fact is people get tired too. Like your citizens did and showed.
However, in keeping with my promise, I do have a hymn just for you and you will find it at the end of this my errhh, is it a letter? I don’t even know what to call it. But you will find the hymn at the end of this, whatever you choose to call it. It’s my earnest hope backed by prayer that you enjoy it to the max. I titled this hymn, ‘ voices of a new dawn’. Voices because the pain, like the one you receive from a bad relationship, has become too much. Slowly the tears are turning the tongues. And what the mind has been battling with for so long is finding their way onto these tongues. They may sound faint at first but they are sure. The dawn because its been night for so long we need the light of day. We are not cursed like Egypt in Bible days but under bad leadership have been left in palpable darkness even whiles it’s day. We need change. With the title too you will find your name attached. It’s because you inspired me. Yeah, you are my inspiration. Just as you are to millions of your people. The inspiration you recently gave reminds of the first struggle for independence.
Don’t be surprised at what happened in your country. Here too little of same has been happening. Strikes and demonstrations of a kind which are unprecedented in its frequency in this country. And its all because the ordinary African man, as you like to refer to us like you too are not ordinary, is slowly finding his voice. I see their gathering. Its like the clouds which moves slowly but sure, and faster than a snail. First like a fist then grows a little bigger like a head. Soon, a mass of black bodies looking menacingly cloudy.
But there is something I must say to this new ordinary African as well. I pray and implore him that he does not became murderous in his quest for what is rightfully his. Our brother King of USA puts it beautifully when he says: ‘to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place,we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the of cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of discipline and dignity. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.’
Creative protest. I hear your people were not too creative and burnt down the house where they were to give you more ruling time. Too bad. But the people here in my home lately began some creative moves. Like Occupy Flagstaff house after which came Red Fridays. Here we all try to put on red attires on Fridays, a succinct way of making our sentiments known. This is my hope, Monsieur, and anytime I would write to the people I will strongly say it to them.
Know this, the ordinary African man is learning to use his voice and I hope that he finds his feet as well and move like he talks and demands. Enjoy this hymn as you take coffee in your asylum. And let others take a cue. Until then, a bien tot.
To Blaise -Voices of a New Dawn
That is what they want to make it
Back our apparent autocracy
With an ill political legitimacy
Entrenching in citadels of treachery
The polls is only a bad lottery
It strangely finds a way to favor his Excellency
Liquor do not intoxicate much like power
Narcissistic dominance of a black Fuhrer
Freedom of greed
Let the people suffer indeed
But as time hurries change on its heels
And misdeeds become too much for oppressed beings
You shall not rule anymore like Kings
Another struggle for independence shall ring
*Fuhrer, a German title which means leader or guide most associated with Hitler.
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