Wishing you the best of 51 years,
Ghana, once Gold Coast,
Once Ashanti, Akwamu, Ewe and Guan,
Dagomba, Ga, Dagarti and Gonja
Small bites,
Thin slices of forest and savannah,
And migrating peoples, headed south
From the fifth cataract of the Nile
Then from Wagadu- the ancient of empires,
Where the snake Bida was found,
Whose head detached, flew far to the south
So we all marched south
To find the gold and rain.
On dry Sahel lands our footprints lie
Roots pierce deeper
Than our many tongues
Finding the core at the centre of earth
We cling to the genesis of one long story
Of trials, wars, divisions
and now friendships
Seeking a future bound to each other
We could be stronger
We could be taller
Allowing the past to serve the future
And if it will not
Then let it go
Let it die
As we speak with new tongues
and sing new songs
And dream a new conciousness to life
We march on to find the gold and the rain.
At 51, I daresay we've come of age
We know the stage
We can write a new play
It is time to reach ahead for a blessing
Time to grasp a better day
by Adwoa Badoe
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