By Kwesi Atta Sakyi 2nd November 2012
(This poem is dedicated to the memory of all noise makers on the more than 250 radio stations in Ghana).

An idle mouth will say things,
Things need to be said,
Walk the talk and free yourself,
An idle mind in idle chatter
Is like the clatter of a hoofed horse
In a light canter on an iron laid street,
Neighing in the neighbourhood with no reins

Where I come from
They talk their talk
And walk their talk in small gossip,
Nay, also in big gossip,
An idle mouth will say things,
The mind is a leaking roof,
And an open running sore,
Dripping and oozing stench from its core.



Some unpatriotic political popinjays
Peddle unpeaceful pandemonium,
Political talkaholic liars,
Polluting and poisoning the political chalice unabated,
Political prostitutes posturing as true patriots,
They lie even when the Ghanaian economy is burgeoning,
Those with eyes can see
Between NPP and NDC which is which,
A witch is a witch, even a bitch,
While patriots are upbeat praising Ghana,
Mispatriots walk about parading monstrous statistical lies

Where I hail from,
They mind other people’s business,
Yes, your business is their business,
People talk and talk
From morn till the sun goes to sleep,
In no small talk,
From dawn to dusk,
They chatter and jabber,
Idling away the long day,
Stalking the walkways for small talk

There are few jobs to be had,
Unemployment situation is bad,
That’s why I became a bard,
But onipa y3 bad
Talk upon talk, idle talk,
So they employ the mouth as proxy
True, the mouth does not sleep hungry,
It talks and talks and feeds on gossip,
It is as slimy as okra soup,
Or Ogbono with ewedu soup,
In gari and inyan palaver parley

In Ghana where I hail from,
There are professional chatter boxes,
Go to Makola market in Accra,
It’s a big talking shop,
They churn the rumours
And concoct stories,
Gossip upon gossip without number

They feed the grapevine and rumour mill,
Tune in to the teeming FM stations,
There is gutter chatter galore,
You’ll go deaf with avalanche of gibberish,
There is info overload, a deafening overdose,
Accusations and counter recriminations,
There is no economy of words,
Words are churned in decimal decibels,
There is outpouring of obscene indecencies,
I say, anchor legs need castration,
Wordsmiths and spin-doctors need muzzles,
They stretch the truth beyond elastic bounds,
To lengthen the day, to stay in employment
,

Welcome to Ghana today,
Vacancies galore for talkaholics, Akasanoma Kasapoolos,
Small brains with loud bucket mouths,
Walking megaphones vibrating without restraint,
The airwaves are overheated and choked,
Noise pollution is causing global political storms,
Many serial callers engage in atrocious atros3m,
Oh, what a country of hearsaymongers
And doomsday devotees,
Endeared to empty prattle and chatter,
Idle mouths, go to roost and cut the cackle

By Kwesi Atta Sakyi Contact: kwesiattasakyi449@gmail.com