The African

I am African.

Yes I said African, where we have people of mixed colors

Where the only time you hear the sound of laughters is at the beer parlors,

Where the elders discuss their misfortunes, while the clock ticks

Watching documentaries of how the western world is making effort to heal the sicks

Yes the Africa you will find healthy strong dull minded elders

Running around the greedy educated and crafty leaders

Yes, I am African, where coronavirus is nothing but political numbers

Used by those fancy dressed people, we call parliament members

Who know nothing about hunger and the high cost of getting vaccinated

But are quick to appear on TV shows and radios wanting to be reelected

So they can address the unpaid salaries of the striking doctors

That have refused to treat the chronic stomach ulcers of raving professors

Yes, I am African, not the Africa that has classrooms with chairs

No, not that one. The Africa where the children still go to schools with unkempt hairs

Where the classrooms still flood with water when it rains

And no teachers to give hope to the rising ones with exceptional brains

The Africa where hunger eats the brains of children like gids

And learning on empty stomach is a daily reality for the kids

Yes, I am African. The Africa with beautiful green farmlands

With hungry beautiful babies that still play with untarred streets sands

Where feces can still be pumped on public roads as the children play

Yes, that Africa, where the leaders are happy to leave you in dismay

While they smile to China for more loans, selling the future

Of brilliant minds that they ought to nurture

Yes, that's Africa where I still live.

Eggy Jonson

Lomé, Togo

10/01/2022

00.08am