I come crying
Crying at the sudden calamity that has befallen our village.
Words will make lightly our felt
But tears will better explain our hurt.
Our river has cease to flow
I come calling you all to the river side,
With our pots in hand
Seeking water for the household
Finding answers to the drier of our river,
That only yesterday was full of life,
Our fishermen come wailing, the farmers dejected
And for the entire village weep at a lost.
We weep because we feel the pains of our lost.
Where shall we get our water from?
Where will be the abode of the living creatures that depended on you for survival?
Why will sand take over the flowing life of a river?
See the fruits, they dry and shrivel.
See our lands, they become a desert,
We gather that our tears may fill the river again with life.
Nature, we come asking.
Why have you taken our livelihood from us,
Our joy shattered, hopes like the water pot broken.
We shall retire mourning.
Mourning over a true son of the soil…
We shall pray the ancestors to bless us with your kind….
Rest in perfect peace Paul Victor Obeng.
For you have served your nation well!