Poem: Here Cometh Obama

By Isaac Karikari (bkkarikari@yahoo.com)

Oh Ghana!


Here cometh Obama,


On his tour,


He steps on your shore.


Is this “a nothing”, or a sign,


Of favour divine?





Oh Ghana!


Here cometh Obama,


The bells peal.


Not for Mills or Mahama,


But for Ghana.


And for our ailments, I wonder,


What magic pill?





Here cometh Obama,


With his Michelle in tow.


To no place but Ghana.


But in some Ogas mind, he’s stooped low


And in shame, his head, must bow.


But isn’t that only some discordant voice,


Eyes gone green, because Ghana is the choice?





With the wizened,

Choices are not about mere numbers and quantity


But content and quality.





This is meritocracy.


Honour earned by the credentials of our democracy.





Come Obama


And get some pampering-


Comforts you may never get back at home,


Right here under Ghana’s dome.





Here cometh Obama.


Prez Mills, for Blak, give no stage.


That guy is no sage.


In Atukwei or Ama we’ve got great bards.


They can offer odes or ballads,


And even string together the lyrics


That make fitting panegyrics.








I like the cool civility now.


The thing with a single Eye has been leashed.


And the daggers have been sheathed.


Some white flags we hoist


As America’s Prez, we host.

It’s as a feuding couple, their hostilities, cease.


Upon a person of honour’s entrance,


They, by reason, broker a deal of peace


But that is momentary, and only superficial


They start again, with the person’s absence,


Shredding themselves apart, piece by piece.





What will post-Obama Ghana be like?


Will the rabid barks in the corridors resume?


And the mobs of morbidity, the reins, assume?





Obama cometh,


And I wonder,


Would he be briefed on all the disasters?


The Bawku brawl, and those who fell


The Kumasi inferno, and the things that became toast


The rain, and the number slain


And how it’s all added to the state’s cost,


With the hope that


He’ll offer some relief, for our grief.





Would he be told,


How some emptied the coffers


Broke the economy, and got sectors into coffins,

Fit for nothing but burial,


Until Doc Duff’s wonderful resuscitation?





Would he get to hear about the cars,


The mud slinging and tarnished reputations


And how some have been left with scars?





What will the spinners spin?


And what will the propagandists propagate?





I’ve heard talks of some Obama cloth,


And seen pictures too.


Akosua’s Daily Guide cartoon


Was not just another lampoon.


My ears have also been privy to talks of a plot


And I’ve read an article or two.





Here cometh Obama,


Let’s cease, the political dogma.


All that is needless


Let’s stop the political madness.


Let’s show some class


And avoid any bit of political crass.





(For now at least)

(Let’s not make ourselves less).





(Even among the average and ordinary)


In the corners of our heads


And the deep recesses of our hearts


Lurk some thoughts:





On this visit, so brief.


Any package of relief,


Though his land still reels under the crush of the crunch?





Or in their American dreams


Our oil streams


Have become a prominent feature


Spelling great prospects for the future?





To your land, oh Ghana


Cometh Obama


With his Michelle in tow.


Is he coming to grow,


Some American grain?





What will be our gain?