Growing up, the mantra that surrounded us in any level of forecast for the future related to the words;

“You are the future leaders.”

Our desire to embrace the future ran amok as we sheepishly waited for the future. The clock ticked, but the future never came since we heard it more and more even as age advanced on our paths.

When the gloomy day was out of sync with its fervent mood of hope, the future we awaited for, was sold. There we stood, and our shadows deserted us.

They told us, ‘don’t worry, we will create another future.” Once again, we acceded to vain and pleasurable words. The promises came in legions of great ambitions, bundled with no iota of reality.

The only future we could envision was one thronged with struggles for our voiced to be heard. From one conference to another, we heard of a hope that only grew bleaker.

“We will create jobs for you. You are the future leaders.” These promises defeated our conscience. We joined the chorus and sang the campaign songs, “edey bee k3k3, Onaapo, and many others our minds even refuse to remember.”

We were forced to sip kalypo more than our bellies could contain. We floated on the streets. The old watched us in awe.

“Oh these are the future leaders,” they said.

The days were in constant race with no one and by nightfall, a half-moon rested in the fronds over our heads. All in all, the youth of Ghana became a shell, drowned in the sea of disappointment and misery.

The promised jobs were found in the hands of a few who had their strings attached to power and the ‘big men.’

Here we stood again struggling together like beads on a wire. The West could not help, neither could the East. We were thrown into the ambience of silence. We lost our dignity, and our marriages could only be likened to champagne on a beer budget. We simply couldn’t afford it.

Nevertheless, age couldn’t wait for us, it soared above our heights. And the more the future became blur, the more we were told, “You are the future leaders.”

In the race of the population, the youth were given the wooden spoon. We had no shoulder to lean on or somebody to shed our tears with.

Some died with their weapons (potentials) in their hands. As the clock ticked, the full scale of our suffering became imminent. We had to rise up! Yes we had to.

We craved and searched for hope and jobs, only to come to the realization that we were the hope and the sources of the futuristic and practical jobs. We didn’t drop asleep anymore. Scores of teeming youth- boys and girls, we came together and staged a formidable intellectual and attitudinal coup that sought to overthrow the corrupt mental attitude in our country.

The fruit of our democracy was blended with our rich cultural values. We became powerful and hope was restored. We built Ghana together in glee. Having done this, we lived a happy and prosperous life. Thinking aloud in an Aayalolo bus. "We are not children of a lesser God".