Its yours to gallop or sip

Tuesday 31 December 2013

MAKE A RESOLUTION

Here comes the season of the evening
Make resolutions with reason and meaning
Don't scream too loud like you are wild
Just dream soo aloud, hope and smile

Happy new year to all friends and families out here. Again Make resolutions for they do work with prayers,determination and perseverance.

Tuesday 17 December 2013

HOW CAN YOU FAIL?

HOW CAN YOU FAIL?
(To a despairing brother who thinks he has failed in Life)

'Oh Damn, again I failed'
How do you go on knowing that you failed?
why won't you stop failing?
When you know how to fail

Did you hear everyone say shame
Insulting and calling you name ....(loser)
Family and friends turn into mockers
Shun them, they all success blockers

Would you cry when you find out the cause? (yourself)
If yes, then that will be another failure course
Will you sit and look like all lost
And keep telling you the ways out exhaust
Invite your jaw to your palm
And caress the future with balm
Hoping to see tomorrow walk again
And the weeping hours yielding gain.
(Ok, then sit there)

Come on!, wake up from your past
the future is nearing and coming fast
Pat the back of Hope with action
Smile, live and wait for the reaction

I tell you, this is how to fail,when you live the stanza 3
Stanza four is the trick and its free.

Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin

Friday 13 December 2013

Interviewed On Mandela's Death

I am glad to be honoured by the Youth Journalism International to add my voice to the many African Youth voices on Dr. Nelson Mandela's Death.

To read the full news, click the link below

.....click here.....

Thursday 12 December 2013

I Think Nkrumah was Over Ambitious, what is your say?


RIP Nelson Mandela of South Africa. Since the man died I have not verbalized a word about my emotions. I guess that won't mean I don't care?. Rather a question has kept my mind so busy that I barely can find my heart to cry out the grief.

Did Nelson Mandela achieve more than Nkrumah in the struggle for a better Africa for Africans?

In all these boring years of travelling through the History of Africa, I have come to a well convincing junction that there was no ideology more authentic than 'Nkrumaism'. For that matter, myself didn't have much time to waste, I carried on my tiny brain and shoulders the cross of Nkrumaism and started the march for one Africa in my own small pace. This was the spirit that led to the formation of the 'Builders of the African Dream', as at the conception of the idea, I had less than six non Ghanaian friends both on Facebook and 'Lifebook'. 

It has been a very pleasing experience meeting Africans from different states dreaming the African Dream of United Nations Of Africa, which basically germinated from the hodgepodge mess of largely Marxist-Socialist ideals and thoughts that the plagiarism-prone Ghanaian leader had adopted as his own, with the hope of guaranteeing his immortality in the realm of African social and political thought, as Kwame Okuampa Ahoofe would put it.

So my mentor, Osagyefo Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, lived for the unification of African States. He was too busy finding ways of attaining one nation out of a continent of different cultures, languages and ethnicity to realize that unity was more vital than unification. The best Nkrumah should have done for Africans was to plant little trees of unity and peace which would have fruit the unification.

Sometimes I wondered where he had bought his inspirations from. It could evidently be said that he was feeding Africa with his savvy of the United States of America and the oneness of the People Republic of China. ” The American-schooled Ghanaian leader was merely using the United States of America as his model for Africa’s socioeconomic development, even while Mr. Nkrumah paradoxically, and hypocritically, pretended to be rabidly “anti-American imperialism.”


On Tuesday, my eyes were glued to the TV screen whiles I watched the memorial service of the late Mandela and listened with keen interest as the many heads of states from near and far coloured our screens with their ‘tributes’ of just words. President Zuma did a great job by taking the hands of my mind to another walk on the achievements of Dr. Nelson Mandela. Then the question came again, so did Mandela achieve more than Nkrumah, my mentor? Now I could hear a voice answering me in a disappointed fashion.

What I call, the Nkrumah Megalomania

My own Nkrumah lived in a psychological state characterized by delusions of grandeur.
Nkrumah preached a white-hot sermon of the rapid industrial development of the African continent, his requisite Ghanaian model for such development was woefully and callously compromised on the hazy altar of pan-Africanist megalomania.

There were other African leaders of his time who could probably be also thinking of the good for Africa but it was another thought of them to make sure that their homes were adequately prepared before crying for the larger masses. But Nkrumah in his way was louder on Pan Africanism instead of the reason that took him to independence and that crowned him the first president of Ghana. One thing was that, Nkrumah forgot he was a president of Ghana or He saw Ghana as a suburb of Africa.

So he lived with his psychotic belief that by he helping All, will mean saving All. I don't think that Nkrumah was much greater, powerful and influential than Nelson Mandela, Jomo Kenyatta, Julius Nyerere, why was he so gaudier on Pan-Africanism that the rest could barely be seen.


The Comparison

Whiles Mandela kept much of his attention on anti-apartheid and the growth of South Africa, Nkrumah on the other side was occupied with making the whole of Africa a unified state like USA and China, though he knew very well that the Chinese had one language, one cultural trace and a taste of education pre-dated years, he still had much hope and confidence that the unification of Africa will come by the achievement of attaining mere independence for every state.

Though my dearest Nkrumah was not a science student, I had expected him to understand the principle of diffusion (the process in which there is movement of a substance from an area of high concentration of that substance to an area of lower concentration). It would have given him the egression of his mental shackles of Africa Melioration to Better Ghana Agenda which the late Prof. Atta Mills died for.

The names of Mandela would long reside in many history books around the world, not because he did any special thing for the USA, CUBA or AFRICA but for reasons that he mothered a country which was drowning in the bitterness of a social policy or racial segregation involving political and economic and legal discrimination against people who are were not Whites. Delivered an anti-apartheid nation and breastfed the People's standard of living to a level higher than any of the nations Nkrumah was nursing.

Who is that south African who can point out or object to the ideologies of Mandela? No one. But how can someone argue out a man who laid his life down for the betterment of every life of a land.

Here in Ghana people talk against Nkrumah despite the fact that he attained independence, because he had in his capacity to move Ghana to the highest economic and political stability in Africa, if he had focused much of his head and national resource in the good of a nation rather than the amelioration of a continent.
I have now understood fully why our mothers named him "Nkrumah Show Boy".
Even in his choice for a wife, he turned blind eyes to stupendous buttocks of our mothers and fished a Fatia from Egypt. Again that was Nkrumah for Africa instead of Ghana.

Nkrumah was jumping from one African State to the other, giving them the hope of light that will lift Africa from the darkness of colonialism, imperialism and capitalism should there be a united Africa Nation whiles Ghana, his own remained in darkness.

So whiles Mandela served the mouths of south Africans to maxi satisfaction. When the South Africans became much filled to the brim, Mandela didn't have to bed any one to go voicing the good he/she had tasted. So soon the world got to know the good Mandela was doing.

On the contrary, Kwame Nkrumah, 'show boy' served every African nose with a perfume of the light and after people had had just an aroma of his ideologies, they were thrown into a state of imaginary writing of what probably would have been the ultimate taste of the Nkrumaism.

It therefore could be established world widely that Mandela did more than Nkrumah, though in his nation. The comparison of the average Life of a south African and a Ghanaian reflects the achievement of both fathers of nations.

Nkrumah was gathering a huge army of unarmed soldiers in the fight for African Redemption and pan-Africanism.
Looking at the condition of Ghana at the time Nkrumah was preaching his Nkrumaism, it appeared like a pastor who was Prophesying mansions for his congregation while he slept in a cottage.

I think Nkrumah was over ambitious, what is your take on this?

Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin
Founder/President- Builders of the African Dream.
Ghana.

Saturday 7 December 2013

A Flight Diversion

A Flight Diversion

LAGOS, Nigeria — I was woken by the pilot’s voice. In the drowsy hum of the airplane, his words crackled, and I thought I heard something about preparing to land. Could I have slept so long? I looked at the time. It was only three hours into the Lagos-to-Atlanta flight. The flight attendants were hurrying back and forth. The pilot was still speaking. “We have an emergency onboard, and we have had to divert the flight to Dakar.” I could feel the plane descending. It seemed too fast. A sweeping hollowness. My fog of sleep cleared instantly. Something was wrong, the pilot was too cryptic, the flight attendants too blank-faced, snatching up cups, urging seats straight. I thought: If I die, I hope it’s quick and I don’t know.
The woman beside me crossed herself. Then the pilot’s voice came back on. It was a medical emergency, he said; a pregnant passenger went into early labor and had just had a baby. I sensed, around me, a collective hush of relief and wonder. A baby delivered on the plane! We landed in Dakar. It was 2 a.m. Medical personnel in orange vests hurried in, a man carrying a black box, a lanky woman dragging an IV stand, their eyes heavy with sleep. I wondered what the baby would need, and if they had what the baby would need.
Soon, the lanky woman left, cradling a bundle wrapped in cloth. The baby. I strained to see better, hoped I would hear it cry. Then the new mother emerged, a young woman with a tube dangling from her arm, and behind her came the other medical worker, trying to support her. But she didn’t need him. She strode past, straight and steady, so quick that I caught only a glimpse of her face. She looked stunned and frustrated. It seemed even more of a wonder to me, not only that she had just had a baby in midair but that there she was on her feet, normal and capable.
The pilot came out of his cabin. A tall man with an easy air, he told us it was a baby boy, and both mother and baby were fine. His American humor emerged. “Been flying a long time and this is a first for me!”
We, the Nigerian passengers, laughed with a shared sense of delight, as though by being present we had somehow shared in bringing this baby into the world.
The American flight attendants were baffled. “The mother said she was 24 weeks gone, but that baby looked full-term. Why would anybody take the risk?” one asked.
We did not ask why. The new mother was traveling alone, nobody knew her, and yet we felt as if we did. We speculated about her circumstances. She probably had visa problems, got her visa later than she’d planned, or perhaps she had not planned it early enough, or maybe the chance to go to America emerged late in her pregnancy, and she’d chosen to do what she had to do because the sparkling worthwhile end was an American-born baby. I thought of her expression as she exited the plane, more frustration than worry, a lament for the American passport that now would not be.
Some passengers joked about her poor luck. “Now she has a Senegalese baby, ah, this is bad market for the baby!” one said. “A Senegalese passport is still better than a Nigerian,” another countered. “They will give a Senegalese person a visa before giving a Nigerian.” “Good that the baby waited for the flight to take off, do we even have the right emergency services in Lagos airport?” someone else asked. We chuckled. Good will swirled among us. Thank God it ended well, many people said, thank God. Risk taking was familiar to us. For too many in our world, this was the norm: the lack of choice and the dependence on chance.
Again, the pilot’s voice brought news. A tire had deflated, and the airline did not have the resources in Senegal to fix it in time. We would have to spend the night in Dakar. As we left the plane and got into buses, we sent text messages and grumbled about the inconvenience of arriving a day later than planned.
Still, the complaints were light-footed because what mattered was that the birth had gone well. In the hotel, some passengers posed for pictures by the fountain; why miss a good photo opportunity in a fellow African city they otherwise might never have visited? “Please, my sister, do you have any sleeping pills?” a stranger asked me.
The next morning, slightly disoriented and starved of sleep, I skipped breakfast.
When I finally went down to the lobby, most of the crew and passengers were gathered, waiting for the airport bus, faces dull and unrefreshed, voices a muted murmuring.
As I joined the group, a woman asked me if I had heard.
“Heard what?” I asked.
“The baby died.”
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is the author, most recently, of the novel “Americanah.”

THE MADIBA OF AFRICA


Death, I envy you
Of you, Madiba gave an envious view
Your fear, he never submitted to
And at his time, he smiled and embraced you

Goodnight Madiba...
Life, never again will I trust you
Never again will I feel secured in you
For with the good Madiba did in you
Still you gave him up for death to pierce him through
Goodnight Nelson, our great hero...
O mother earth! I fear you more
In your belly, lies the rich and the poor
The mighty
And the lowly
The old, the toddler
Now it's Madiba, our beloved leader
Goodnight Mandela...
Heaven, welcome the sojourner
Earth, goodbye to a great achiever
The Madiba of Africa

By Oku-ola Paul Abiola

Friday 6 December 2013

TATA MADIBA IS GONE

Not such a Good Morning, Angels.
Sadness surrounds.
God held you Tata till the end of time, 95 golden years.
He called you home.
Don't worry you have so much to show.
For me being me is part of doors you opened up by the grace of God.
I am because you are. You died but you live in me.
Humility, humanity... Tata Madiba, you meant something to everyone.
The legacy of forgiveness stands out so tall.
You introduced freedom.
Welcoming many others to the land of milk and honey, unselfishly.
From my office - being granted by God.
Blessed to work in circles untold.
No power of political estate was forced in a negative way.
Steps of request was followed.
You did not expect 'us' to pull out all stop.
Request should be granted due to legislation and not your status.
A man larger than life. A man with integrity.
To work in the delegation going abroad.
The head of States was welcomed in respect. No shame followed him.
The reception of various Head of States was always with dignity and ease.
For children he had passion and would smile while they enjoy the come together.
The popstars, Aids activist, talk show host, musicians who came to meet and greet you.
They sat and chat and smiled with disbelieves.
He was out of office already but fundamentally important.
His living legacy followed him. We pay homage.
Pointers standing out - put other people before himself. Strategist. None sexist.
Caring how approach about bad concern.
Tragedy, when it stroke he would send his immediate aid.
None racial top fundamental value filled man.
The duty of country of non racial
and non sexes to find provision for our constitution.
To advance disadvantage people.
Challenging race bound work oppurtunities was opend for all.
Enrichment in studies granted.
Your spirit we must emulate of our Giant who now passed.
South-Africa has never been the same. Remarkable leadership.
As if divine intervention took place. Your good soul though us well.
Warrior of passion for life who led us from the wilderness till where we are today.
MHDSRIP. God knows best.

Written By: Noleen Desiree Utterance Titus. ( Proudly South African)

Wednesday 4 December 2013

Marijuana

Marijuana
Some call you Marihuana
Bob said you are ganja
created by Almighty Jah
Must that be why they shout Jah Bless
After taking you in reckless
mood of supposed egress
Should we stop pointing fingers
at your smokers and drinkers?
This is deal,we will, when you advise them
to drop their illusive diadem

Write to your ignorant users
to cease being abusers
and societal losers
For some of your wise ones
Like Bob,Lucky, my own Rasta class mate
Smoke and still hold their fate
To hell with the young ones
they inhale and go for guns
kill all and kill their owns too
fight, break bones and steal too
I know you Marijuana
Yes I knew you in my addiction
I was advised by Juana
And Mum prayed for my redemption
But am sad the new ones
take a different picture of you
Giving you no respect for once
Talk my ganja planters lest seeds cease growth.

Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin. Ex 'Marijuanist' in GSTS

Wednesday 20 November 2013

MAMA,CAN YOU STILL BE PROUD OF ME?

If it all turned out that I have lied.

   1. You have really done well
       You have kept your virginity
       Now we can give you out in good name

       Papa Ojoula
       Come, come and listen to good news
       Let the prekese boast of its own aroma
       Ojoula tell him, that which you just worded

       Papa, I tasted the banana in primary six
       It was Sumpa, my brother
       He convinced me, I liked it
       We did it again and again

       Mum, wipe those tears
       Yes this is the good news
       You had no heart for it
       Papa has, though he will slap
       I still know he has.


2.   You took me to church on Sundays
     Placed me in the Bible quiz team
     Made sure I grew in the church

     I told you Mum, thanks for the church
     I shall never depart from this gift

    Now you have heard and seen me
    In black suit, white shirt and tie
    Seated with the men around that table
    With the big book, you crave to know

    Whether it was a Bible
    No Mum, am sorry, it is the codex gigas

    Jesus couldn’t save me when the church ended.

3.  You never listened to me
     You never wanted to know me
     You were into their world
     So you also said some
    “Go to school, get good grades, job and you rich”

    What can I do to please Mum?
    That question bought you a new son
    Far different from the one you had raised
    Those white papers with A’s and few B’s
    Those that made you smile and called me proud son
    They were just typed results from the café behind

4.  Look, that was Sister Gloria’s daughter
     The one who just aborted a baby
     She will soon be suspended in the church
     Am glad you pointed only a finger at her
     And the remaining four pointed straight at me
     I was responsible for her pregnancy
    She kept quiet because I had to make you proud

    Mama, am sorry all these Years
    I have been making you proud

    Now can you be proud of me too?

Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin

Tuesday 12 November 2013

HYMNS OF THE BLACK VOICES

Builders of the African Dream Anthology's mouth is still opened and all cups, gallons, buckets and pans of juicy poems are welcomed. Pour in your Poems.
 It only must have a taste of Africa.
We so will be grateful for your contribution to building an African Dream with us. With your Poem we can take the hands of the street children in Uganda and walk them to a house.

We can together paint their faces with smiles and show them a tomorrow they never dreamt of. Your Poem can go to the extend of weaving a hope for the future and release their destiny tied in sutures.
Send your poems to any of the emails below;
victoradex94@yahoo.com
kabagambemoses01@gmail.com
cliffordoppong@aol.com


Join Builders of the African Dream to make the streets for cars not homes.

Friday 8 November 2013

THE RIVER TOO DRINKS

Frimpomah
Sits at the bank of Ankobra
Her head planted in her palms
Eyesfeeding the river with tears
And Ankobra drinks with no fears

Frimpomah sings a dirge
"You them boys swimming
 You them girls fetching
 You them women washing
 If you see my mother, tell her I wait for her body." 2x

Dufia,do me no pity
Cry me no more
Go tell Nana Brago
We came fetching
She dived for a swim
I watched with eyes screaming
and my bones crying
whiles Ankobra ate and drunk her

The home is no longer home
The hen will greet bad morning
the Oracle will speak
Today the gods have taken one of their own.

Tell Nana brago
her daughter drowned
my mother is dead.

Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin.

Friday 1 November 2013

WHY I WILL CONTINUE TO BE A BEGGAR

If you see me in one way or the other begging, please don't be surprised, am not too ashamed of my status as a beggar. I am so because mendicacy is a chronic hereditary disease in my family as a Ghanaian. 

Dad genetically borrowed mendicity from my granddad when he couldn't be any different from working for the whites in the gold mines.  He offered them all he had in his bones as energy to cook wealth and lick the remains of the pot as his salary. When he woke up as early as 4am to work and gets back home as late as 9pm only to wake up and come back again with empty hands and stomach crediting foodstuffs from Auntie Julie's grocery shop. 

At the end of the month,he stretches his begging hands only to be offered 1/10000 of his sweat as his most honourable reward for 100000J of energy used.  On his pay days we all stay awake and gathered around the TV set which best telecast only one boring station, GTV. We will all make our list of books and items to be purchased and lay ambush for the already spent salary. 
The salary is unruly dumped on the centre table in our living room when he returned home, Mum will first welcome him in that her voice which was heard only at the end of the months, in the rest of the days she sounded different and more like a lioness. In the most grand style, supper will be served to the poor begging gold mine worker and he will eat with mouth unwilling to swallow the balls of fufu. 

Whiles he ate, Mum will draw a knife into the salary and start cutting it into different portions, the greater fraction normally went to Auntie Julie for the food we had consumed on credit, so that we can be allowed to eat again for the month ahead. Other parts went into our school fees and other utility bills. My Dad after eating will throw his discomfited self backwards into his lazy chair and ask my Mum if there is any remainder after doing what we all know is ineluctable.
On lucky months we have some left for our lenghty list that most times stand on four pages. Dad will first ask for our list, He normally will scream or laugh uncontrollably upon seeing our pages of items and will then instruct us to tabulate our list into 'WANTS' and 'NEEDS'. So right from infancy I have known the clear difference between want and need and have been warned to always cry for the needs and allow the wants to go searching for themselves. 

So from my basic education to now, I have always been surviving on my needs but I dream of my wants and get to use them in dreamland, morning normally comes to wake and separate me from my sweet world of my wants. I remeber one day in my second world, I was using my own calculator, had for the first time a pair of newly bought sandals and was not wearing those ones my cousin had gifted me. I had not attended the dinning hall and was enjoying canteen food with the 'Dada mba', had a new school bag and was smiling and conversing happily with no worries planted on my face, Snr Labat please wake up, it is time for dorm dressing, then I realized I was again dreaming. Yes all those were my wants. To my father, your school fees, books and transportation back home are the needs, Period.

Growing up, when Life started advising me, I decided to also take upon myself the job which had fed the stomachs of my ancestors. Beggary in labour. So now am a beggar. I work hard for people and after which I beg them for my meagre salary. They somtimes tell me in my face that we can't pay you because we have not fed our families.
We resort to strike, hit the floors of the street and cry out our hunger, most times they listen with their right ears but during unfortunate days, they listen with the left ears and it appears we never will get paid. In other words, they are telling us to keep striking till we will realize we are harming nobody but ourselves since none of their relatives live in the country or is affected.

It is a miserable reason why I can't stop begging, just like ASUU.

Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin

Wednesday 30 October 2013

THE AFRICAN DREAM ANTHOLOGY

THE AFRICAN DREAM ANTHOLOGY - HYMNS OF THE BLACK VOICES

Africa sings a song none has ever heard, from the eccentric cracking of its desert to the siren of its deep waters, there are numerous stories to tell, stories of hope, of life, of beauty and the list is endless in truth. We want to verse our stories, (the good, The Bad, The ugly).To describe mother's beauty in our rich blackless, to blunt the sword of oppression with sassy words, share our hopes and to most importantly help build our African dreams!.

REASON FOR THE ANTHOLOGY
Builders of the African Dream is supporting its affiliate 'The-I'll-Be-There Foundation' to raise funds for the construction of an orphanage which by design will house not less than 500 street children and also provide three classroom blocks for their tuition.
It is in this view that we hope to generate some appreciable funds from the sale of this anthology to back our brethren in the Makerere University, Kampala Uganda.

Help Lets make the street for Cars not Homes.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS:

The Builders of African dreams calls for submission for its poetry anthology titled "HYMNS OF THE BLACK VOICES"

Submission is now opened and will end on December 5, 2013

Poets are allowed to submit up to three(3) poems, but no more

Poems must be original work of the poet and more preferably not yet published in print, blog, or anywhere on the web, with only the exclusion of Facebook and twitter

There is no restriction on length, form, scheme or meter, be as free as you be, and even more creative!

Poems should be in English, but English mixed with any African dialect is accepted with a footnote explaining the African words

Poems must be centered on any of the following themes:
The pride of Africa, The earthly riches, Colonization, Africa Economic Crisis, Africa Politics, Capitalism, Slavery, African women, Tears of Africans, Corruption in Africa, Life in Africa, Feminism, African Activism, African Child and Street Children, African Mythology, African Culture and any other African oriented themes.

Is All about Africa, fetching Hope and Strength from our sorrowful past in marching towards the African Dream and the Africa in the eyes of Africans.

All poems Should be submitted to the groups inbox, or to any of the following email addresses:

cliffordoppong@aol.com
victoradex94@yahoo.com
kabagambemoses01@gmail.com

PUBLICATION
The African Dream Anthology (HYMNS OF THE BLACK VOICES) will be first published as an e-book and be available for sale on most online shops and websites.
Each contributing Poet will be served a free e-book copy of the Anthology.
The e-book will after some few months be published in hard copy books and sold out across the world.
We will keep updating this group on the progress of this Anthology.

will be looking forward to great co-operation from you
Thank you

The Builders Of African Dream( https://www.facebook.com/BuildersofAfricaDream),
Organizer

Contact for Details: +233-243129401, +2348166059110

Monday 28 October 2013

MY FACE OF FACEBOOK

Many beauties my eyes have seen
Of school, work and movie scenes
Facebook has its own but many with face paints
Sometimes I see, laugh and even faint

But

You
Benedicta Agweh

I love your vivid, lovely smiling face
Lips spread wide with no lipstick trace
In your eyes, I can name a Queen
I can watch all day if its you on the screen
Love your long, lean and laughing legs
Not wearing those painful high heel skegs
Nigeria has many good and better to boast
But your likes are best and every man's toast

Its first time speaking my mind
Listen, if you can clearly hear
That your beauty is more beautiful
than that which your picture brings
Yes, is true, I saw that in your words
I see your pictures and I don't comment
it is because they set my mind dancing
and it doesn't stop to write
That slender body of yours
Not only models, but my bad days it cures
You don't know what you done for me
You push my mornings from worst to best
With this miracles in your teeth
Keep smiling to my profile
lest I lose all my friends


Now
To my Face of Facebook
Eat, drink, exercise and stay natural
Make-up comes from old french fry grease
Glamour says it's good but I say "geez"
What woman would ever want that nasty stuff
When your natural beauty is more than enough
So spend your money on natural good looks
And ignore those insane marketing crooks

YOUR BEAUTY IS SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL


Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin for Benedicta Agweh as her share of my birthday cake. Bene bite and swallow.

Wednesday 23 October 2013

UNDERSTANDING HUMAN RESOURCE MANAGEMENT by Osei Piesie Anto

Osei Piesie Anto, is a renowned voice in the politics of Ghana. He is popularly known in the Ghana Broadcasting Cooperation and many radio stations as Uncle Piesie. His usual contribution and commentaries on the disturbing challenges in the country has been very useful and soothing in the ears of all or most Ghanaians.

Besides his Political backcloth, he is most seen in the coat of Mass communication and Human Resource Management. Uncle Piesie is currently a senior lecturer at the African University College of Communication (AUCC), Accra.Ghana.

Master Osei  is well known in the regime of Ex President Jerry John Rawlings for his very intellectual articles. He was an active partaker of the revolution time, a moment he so prides in.

The book in picture is his second book born in his library of books and articles. A detail review will soon be published for details.
Knowing not only as a Father but also an academician and educationist, I can confidently proclaim that this book is all that a Human Resource Personnel will need to embrace fully the field. His so many years of lecturing experience in the field has been inked into this book to make it a learner's tool and easy to understand.

Wait for the review or if you cannot hold your patience like me then contact

 Osei Piesie Anto (MBA, Bradford University-UK)
Tel: +233-243232506

Thursday 17 October 2013

ALL POETS WISHED ME WELL ON MY B'DAY,ESPECIALLY


1. A great one has sucessfully revolved round d sun.....
Challenges didnt weigh him....
Hindrances didnt refrain him...
Congratulobia 2 d voice of Africa..
Hapi birthday Sir Cliff......njoy
THOU SHALL NOT EAT MY PORTION OF D CAKE...THUS SAYS ME*smiles* 

By: Aigbomian Lyzbeth Egehase

2. U . set on higher courses of influence
    separated unto good works
    a hero dat life imitates.
    May God's grace guide&guard u step by step, line by line
    4 His perfection&glory, ur new level.
    Happy birthday boss

 By: Kemjy Xtien

3.  Clifford,
  the One who who recites about me with praise.
 Charming gardener that makes heart blossom.
 Rise to shine. Son of the Soil.
 Forever teasing or foil.
 Ink and blink.
 At pleasures of others to think.
 May the sunrays transcend and decorate you
 with success, joy, prosperity and love and light to make all things right.
Blessed Bornday, other Son of Mine.
Kisses on your forehead. *Tigh Hug)).

 By: The all loving Mum  Noleen Utterance Desiree Titus

4.  That day of your birth
That day of no regret
When the world rejoiced
For a new soul was ushered into it.

May the petals of your soul
Blossom forever;
May the thorns of the road
Never hold you back.
March onwards
Seize time by its forelock
Yea, you can!
Happy birthday, pride of Accra

*mail me my cake soon*
5. The soul of Africa
Flow in your ink
The skin of Africa
Lie on your sheet
Your Words,
Her Breathe...

Not to bind,
But to help loose
Her troubled cords.

Your dream for
Africa will be fulfilled.

To the wishes and prayers
You wish yourself,
From me is Amen.

Happy Birthday,
Pen Warrior.
God grace, mercy
and blessings will
abound in your life
6. ON THIS DAY (BIRTHDAY WISHES)

Many years ago you were born
With tears, laughter and joyful song
Nothing but smiles you brought along
The death of years we will not mourn

The little babe of yesterday
Today the cause of merriment
Despite the fang of years and dent
Joyful tales we are here to say

All thanks to Him in the highest
The one who giveth all the years
And cast away all profound fears
�Tis He that kept you in His nest

May the rest of your earthly days
Be the best you will ever sail
May every year on this day bail
More success in multiple ways
7.  He's Added 730 Clocks!

Shoot the bells!
Ring the guns!
The shame is hell's
the smile is the sun's.
He's added 730 clocks.

Roll the moon!
Spread the cloud!
The night be noon!
Tell it aloud!
He's added 730 clocks.

Flowers dress your best!
Birds spread the song!
This pen is from my chest
and I don't mind if that is wrong.
He's added 730 clocks.

My wishlist for you is endless
but this is on top:
As you climb higher in life,
you continue to affect positively, all that come to pass you.

Happy birthday mentor!
Happy birthday Sir Clifford
8. My friend this is the blessed day
  that brought the precious gift you are into this world
  This is the day angels shed tears of joy
  for the arch angels had defeated the enemy
  A blessing Oppong is born!
  This is the same day
  Heaven rejoiced and God declared it is well
  the day the world was blessed with ur presence.
Happy Birthday, be blessed and always remember God loves you!
 
9. Happy birthday, sir!
  Wishing all the best life has to offer.
  Don't fail to win your spurs. All the best!
  October will go down in history
  as a legendary month which has birthed men of great erudition.

By:
Linus Okechukwu


10. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OPPONG CLIFFORD BENJAMIN

A brand new day is dawing
And as it get its start,
I want you to know
I am thinking of you
With warmth in my heart.

I hope your birthday is special
No one deserve it more than you!
You are such a kind hearted person,
It shows in everything that you do

So, have a perfect day
And an even lovelier day
May happiness surround you
Always, not just for today
May you live long
 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

Happy Birth Day to Me

Today is my 24 hours year
Many like this come but 2013's is dear
In this year, my destiny comes near
All that remained from 199? to 2012 a dream
Came alive, shinning in 2013 like a gleam
My joy scribbled in volumes of ream

2013
God returned to me, my lost rib
At the edge of my shame, sharpened my nib
Oiled my pen with eternal ink
to write words and think
Poetry grew older in me
I went down on my knee
to be blessed and ordained
a poet and my dead dignity regained

Today
I wish you Life
Rise and always rise
You died and resurrected
It doesn't make you Jesus,don't be misdirected
I wish you safe journey to future
And release all fortunes tied with suture
I wish you a day when;
Schools will learn your history
Your words become mystery
Thoughts and dreams become things.
I wish you the Clifford in your GOALS BOOK.

Written By: Opoong Clifford Benjamin for Oppong Clifford Benjamin

Wednesday 16 October 2013

MY PART OF THE DREAM



MY PART OF THE AFRICAN DREAM

Yes, a dream, because it still remains in my memory whenever I pray for our dear mother Africa and my other siblings who are also victims of the mentality created by white-coloured looters clothed in black suits. Freedom from governance, our Ancestors fought for; but freedom from the mentality they never achieved. Freedom to invent and implement, they left unapproachable because they saw their black colour as dull; Blacks aren’t dull by my mentality. 

Republic of Ghana's Independence Day- 6th March 1957-
 Republic of Liberia’s is 26 July 1847,
South Africa, Republic of
31 May 1910

Egypt, Arab Republic of
28 February 1922

Ethiopia 1, People's Democratic Republic of
5 May 1941

Libya (Socialist People's Libyan Arab Jamahiriya)
24 December 1951

Sudan, Democratic Republic of
1 January 1956

Morocco 2, Kingdom of
2 March 1956

Tunisia, Republic of
20 March 1956

And so many of them but there has never been a date as Independence of Africa.
Yes because these so-called FREEDOM nick named “INDEPENDENCE” were granted by these same people who stole, rebuked and condemned mother Africa; they adroitly schooled some black men and made their mentality white and instructed them to fight for independence from them without the PEOPLE (ignorant Africans) noticing the secrecy of their drama.

Out of their impudence they mocked Mother Africa for her patience and quietude. But our mother knew that a time like this will come where her fruits will learn from these looters and change the mentality they planted in Africa. The mentality that black is dull and black is evil and black will never prosper.
Africa knew that a time will come where we will celebrate Africa’s Independence Day; a time will come where her proud children will hold her nicest picture in mind and build it in hand; a time where her proud sons and daughters will go through thick and thin to make her the most beautiful and richest woman; the time where her other female friends (Europe, Asia, America) will fight for visa to see her. The peace, wealth, wisdom and resources they took from the people will return to the people. The time is my part of THE AFRICAN DREAM. 

No, no, not again! We refuse to take permission from them; we act NOW because we are Africans, because we are few who have achieved our mental independence and instead of celebrating their skillful independence ploy, we celebrate our mental independence and the forthcoming Independence of Africa.  
The African Dream, I am proud to be part of its build-up - the dream that comes with a package full of candies that will sweeten the lives of the African; the dream that will make the privileged West pay huge sums of money  just to migrate to experience. 

Unreasonable it sometimes sounds but the sense that calls for is patience. The builders are at work, they commenced today and will never end until the nicest picture of Mother Africa is in the hands of all Africans.
I salute “BUILDERS OF THE AFRICAN DREAM ARISEEEEEEEEE, PICK UP YOUR TOOLS AND WORK!!!!!

By: BUILDER OPPONG CLIFFORD BENJAMIN

A Cup of Future

Translate

Popular Posts

Contact Form

Name

Email *

Message *

Wikipedia

Search results