This week, final funeral rites and burial ceremony for the late former president of Ghana took place in Accra. Three of my writer friends wrote poems to eulogize President Jerry John Rawlings. Here is to the memory of a man who lived and left an indelible mark in the history of the political development of Ghana. We dedicate today’s column to him and we wish him a restful sleep in the bosom of the fathers. Hede nyuie, Papa J.
Sleep, Comrade, Sleep – by Elikem M. Aflakpui
sleep, comrade, sleep
it’s the end of your life’s quest
where your foes will no more molest
you slept several times
each time woken by purpose’s chimes
more mountains needed your conquering climbs
now sleep, Papa J, sleep
enjoy this slumber that knows no breaks
no fevered breaths, no bleeds and no aches
dream of fighting fields no more
firing guns will bring you no gore
here’s our 21-gun salute — to fade you off this shore
sleep, Jerry John Rawlings, sleep
have a rendezvous in your new home
extend your regality to the thereafter; there, experience shalom
Odumba – by Eben Ace
Indeed, ‘the great Odum tree has fallen’
A mighty storm sweeps the land
and leaves its people naked
under the burning sun.
Did doom whisper?
Did it whisper or we didn’t heed,
because we were engulfed by the stories
under the warm leaves
of the mighty tree.
Storms have come, left and will return
But this gloomy storm caught us
while our curious ears soaked
the wisdom of the grey.
Indeed, ‘the great Odum tree has fallen’
The fine dust has settled to moan
even when the atumpan beats hard
to announce the passing
of a true son
The old weep in the tracks of its shadow,
the young sob, yearning for more
of its fruits before it dies.
But mortals we are…
….no man sees death when it berths,
its silent footsteps when it steps,
its cruel agenda on this earth,
nor its next step.
Indeed, ‘the great Odum tree has fallen’
….and no branch, or bunch of leaves
can pamper our rain of tears.
RIP, President Rawlings – by Rosemond Nyansafo
One day, the chants of joy
that once escaped from our vocal cords.
Would be lesser than mere whispers,
In this life’s hurdles and lots.
We patiently await the moment with careful impatience,
When stimulus and empathy bear no resemblance to us no more.
Of that very time, where gravity shall bear us no grudge.
Death came into our compound uninvited
Unconcerned, it touched our ceiling.
The very part that sheltered us better
Death, you have no shame
Your venom is recklessly unbound
Untethered to that one thing which must be found
And we sit on our insect-infested three-legged stool
Waiting and watching as our hearts aches in tiresome leaps of pain
Devoid of feelings
You touched our Rawlings
Touched him in places where we’re unable to reach
And when we shout his name
To receive a response we know too well
Boom! Boom!! Boom!!!
All that our ears manage to hear is a fading
Hmm! Hmm!! Hmm!!!
