Poor Ashantis

If our forefathers were told,
The mighty and wise Ashantis,
Would one day become slaves of Conscience,
Dancing to the tune of the stamping feet of their master
In their own land,
They would not have believed it.


Whoever would have predicted that,
Would at worst have had his head chopped off,
Or at best, banished from the land of the wise,
To the wilderness of the fools,
To stay among the cowards and the ignorant,
Those removed from the community of the wise,
For uttering words,
And for predicting things only fools and cowards do,
To suffer for their action, although, it could be true.


Truly, truly and truly,
What our forefathers would have dreaded hearing,
An anathema they would not want to see,
Is not only happening before our naked eyes (“fiili fiili -yagani yagani”)
But being masterminded by their own Grandson,
The very one they would expect to do differently,
To protect the entirety and the integrity of the Ashantis,
And to provide them their needs through rational guidance.


Out of selfishness,
The desire to satisfy one’s own insatiable greed,
Or, probably out of stupidity,
The ignorance to not foresee the consequences of one’s actions,
The Ashantis, once the wise ones,
Are dying in their thousands,
Every month of the year,
Without anyone bothering to find out,
The cause of such many deaths.


Could the deaths not be attributed to,
The NHIS capitation grant,
Only in operation in Ashanti land?
Could it not be down to the irresponsible usage of farming chemicals?
By novices aspiring for high crop yields,
But in effect, poisoning their produce,
To unknowingly cause death to the consumers?
Whatever the cause is,
Blame the leaders of Ashanti for not doing much,
But unwisely dancing to the stamping of feet by the master,
Just to ensure they fill their stomach all of the time,
While many others go hungry and are dying.


The Ashantis are gradually,
But unknowingly being exterminated,
Should the alarming rate of deaths among them persist,
But who will rise up to the challenge of telling them the truth?
Except the “Lone Ranger” from Kumawu/Asiampa?


Then hear ye me,
Oh, poor and blind Ashantis,
Not only is your economic backbone being broken,
You are being dispatched to your early graves,
All because of the insanity of your myopic leaders,
In pursuit of their selfish lethal aspirations.


Prayers will help,
But will not solve all your problems,
However, walking a purposeful talk sensibly,
Once you know your fate,
You can extricate yourselves,
From the shackles of the illuminate slavery.


Oh poor Ashantis, once a brave and wise people,
Now, are cowards and dying in your numbers,
Arise to protect yourselves from the malevolence,
Slated for your death by those in whom you entrusted your health and safety.


I dedicate this publication to all good people of Ghana.

Rockson Adofo