From Bole Bamboi to Kyebi from Kyebi to Bole Bamboi, it is far, yet I can’t think far.
I can’t think far because they say your vote is your right but in actual fact your vote is their rise. The rise that takes them far away from you, too far to reach them.
I can’t think far because they say your vote is your voice but in actual fact your vote gives them a voice. A voice that speaks for them not for you.
I can’t think far because they say your vote is your power but in actual fact your vote gives them power. The power that gives them position and the position that gives them possessions leaving you penniless.
I can’t think far because they say your vote is your future but in actual fact your vote is their fortune. They get appointed and you get to pay their salaries, they get the houses and you get to pay their rent even though you are homeless, they get the cars and you get to buy the fuel. They get electricity and you get to pay the bill even though you live in ‘dumsor’.
I can’t think far because they have pot bellies and you have potholes. They have pot bellies because they borrowed in your name and chopped it in their name. Now you have to vomit your intestines out to pay for them.
I can’t think far because you are hungry but not angry. Their dustbins eat more that your stomach and their dogs more than your children.
I can’t think far because they can’t feel your pain yet you pay them with your vote. They schooled abroad, you schooled around. You walked to school they were chauffeured to school. You grew up in one world they grew up in other world so you can’t build a world together.
Who are you? You are me, I am you, we are us and they are they. You and I will trek from Bole Bamboi to Kyebi and from Kyebi to Bole Bamboi to attend their rallies whiles they come in their chauffeured driven V8s intoxicated by power to make powerful promises they do not have the power to keep. I just can’t think far.
Who are we? We are the ones who will go on the street to fight for their interests whiles their children watch us on TV with keen interest in the comfort of their comfortable homes. They will attend our funerals not as mourners but as politicians and play politics with our mothers’ lost. Our mothers will wail, their mothers will wheel them abroad. I just can’t think far.
Who are they? They are they and we are we. They have never been us and we have never been them. As far as Bole Bamboi is from Kyebi and Kyebi is from Bole Bamboi, that is how far away they are from us. Our world is not their world. We played with bamboo toys, the played with Lego, we played ‘gutter to gutter’, they played Snake and Ladder. We don’t understand them, they don’t understand us, yet they say we must stand with them. I just can’t think far.
Who are they? They are those who together ruled mother Ghana for 59 years and ruined our lives. When they compare themselves to themselves they say they ruled well but when we compare ourselves to ourselves we know the they have ruined our wells. I just can’t think far.
We die, they dine, we are the victims of their victories yet we are not angry. I just can’t think far.
We are hungry but not angry enough to agree to hold them accountable for not being accountable. I just can’t think far.
Yes I can’t think far but I can see far.
I can see the new you and the new me and the new us . When I walk on the streets I see the new us questioning their quest to lead us. I see the new us probing their promises and policing their policies.
This is our opinion, it burns like onions but flavours the discourse.
Exodus 18:21 NIV
But select capable men from all the people—men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain…
Bishop Gideon Titi-Ofei
(The Pastor without Walls)