Posted in Social issues

OUR TIME WAS THE BEST

Growing up as a child, I had the best time of life. I remember vividly way back in the village when the moon decked it smiling rays onto the entire village. We gathered and played games like “pepeenaa” “ampe” “grass cutter hunting” “wrestling” etc. Story telling was never left out as we were told stories of almost all the animals in the forest.


The boys tied cloths to their necks which often times smelled urine. We enjoyed “Maame ne papa” which they now call “Bie gya”.  We were never bothered but enjoyed a gathering which depicted the holistic meaning of love and togetherness.
Our childhood time was the best; we had the best of time indeed. In our time, whenever we were sent on errands we ran like horses. We had our own cars that we pulled from behind and we ran faster than the cars. Plantain leaves were used as umbrellas. Fishes could swim from the river to our homes.


We watched Maradona, Azumah Nelson and Mohammend Ali with glee.  Judas, Bob Okala and Santo never ceased to dazzle us with naturally gifted comedy. The only two televisions in the village were powered by car batteries and we watched ‘power rangers’, ‘a journey to the west’ and ‘Konan the destroyer’. We walked to school barefooted with roasted yams in our pockets and we were never discouraged. We had no google or internet yet we learned and passed our exams with distinction.
It was in our time that when we closed from church, we watched Cantata and sung:

We are going

Heaven knows where we are going

We know we will!
We will get there, heaven knows how we will get there, and we know we will!
We listened to great songs of inspiration from Citi Boys, Osibisa, Dr. Paabobo, A.B Crenstil, Nana Ampedu etc.
Gradually, we grew up into a new era where children have what is called human rights. They have no respect for the elderly ones.  They don’t come together to play anymore but only meet on phones where they often insult and spread falsehood about one another.


They spend most of their time in the classroom but yet they become unemployed.  They crazily dress and expose their bodies and call it fashion. Profane and meaningless songs are their favorite songs. As I sat down and thought about all these, I sighed and told myself, “Our time was the best”.
“We are not children of a lesser god”

 Posted by:

Ntenhene Felix

felixntehene@gmail.com 

© snavewritesGroup 2016

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