By Kwame Okoampa-Ahoofe, Jr.
Uncle Tee,
I love you
but I am not
proud of you –
in the not-so-dim past,
I used to both love
and feel proud
of you;
I used to love
and feel
very proud
of you,
till you stooped
so abjectly low,
you became
a virtual valet
for Jato Patapaa…
that was when
I first espied
the sickness
that eventually
took your breath
and life
away…
some cynics
among the thuggish lot
choose to call it
your rare and
near-unique
humility,
but I prefer
to make it real
and true,
I prefer
to take
no hostages
or mince words,
for I am
the vintage breed
of a man,
a real man,
a brave man,
so I choose
to call it
abject
servility,
the way
I have come
to know
and see it…
alas,
with the cheap
and fart-gilt seat
of the presidency
dangled before
your goggled eyes,
you sold
your soul
and dignity
in the name
of humility,
the sullied breed
so luridly
associated
with the Chihuahua,
and so you quickly
became the butt
of jokes
and abuse
by hooky-playing
thugs –
anyway,
Uncle Tee,
what kind of
humility makes
a complete fool
of a brilliant
and respectable
House-Speaker
like Ebenezer Sekyi Hughes?
I know
you suffer from
acute selectivity
of your memory bank,
and so pardon me
to refresh it
with a spray
or two
of my memory-jogging
lavender –
Speaker Sekyi-Hughes
was the cousin
you so callously
dragged before
the parliamentary
ethics committee
and painfully charged
with furniture theft;
we both know
your Cousin Hughes
was no thief,
not by any stretch
of your Woyome scam-artistry…
this is why
I told you
at the beginning
of this tweet
that inasmuch as
I dearly love you
with all my
heart and
soul,
you still
have to give me
one good reason
to feel
proud
of you,
Uncle Tee…
7/28/12
