By Dr Kwesi Atta Sakyi
10th June 2015
That fateful and frightful day in early June,
The entire Accra sky was leaden dark and overcast,
It was laden with pitch dark clouds,
As dark and ominous as two moonless midnights combined,
Daylight turned into greyish gloom,
As cumulo-nimbus clouds straddled the sky,
The impending storm announced its entrance
With flashes of lightening and peals of thunderous thunderclaps,
The sky was a scene of turbulent warfare among the elements
The tree crowns became dark green
Against the silhouette of the Accra skyline,
To me, the sky was pregnant and heavy with child from the rain god,
When months back, the hot weather had intercourse with the water bodies,
But which midwife would deliver the child of a god?
The rain broke lose, and it poured and poured and poured relentlessly,
Raining a torrent of faceless cats and dogs,
Almost the entire city remained indoors in offices and homes,
Caged behind bars by a torrential deluge,
It rained and rained till the ground was choked,
It could no more drink the run-off,
The storm drainages of Odaw and Korle spewed uncollected garbage
To expose our insanity with insanitary conditions to the glare of the global village,
As if to expose our lies with our failed promises,
The ground could and would not drink anymore the run-off,
Had no more pores to soak in the downpour,
Accra drainages burst their seams, it seemed,
Industrial areas, residential areas, offices-
All became theatres of water manoeuvres,
Reminding city dwellers, drainages are neither sufficient nor efficient,
City dwellers accused Accra Metropolitan Assembly (AMA),
AMA blamed drainage contractors,
Drainage contractors castigated Central Government,
Central Government put the buck on donor community and cooperating partners,
The blame game went in a circle, in a circus,
Oh, the streets of Accra had turned rivers,
On which ships could steam and Venetian Gondolas could ply-
The deep deluge inundated streets and pedestrian sidewalks,
Many workers walking home got stranded in pools and puddles,
Cars and Tro-tro passenger buses with loads of human cargo,
Got ensnared in the floods,
Mighty oceans formed in the worst-hit areas,
The notorious congested Circle Area
Was a time- bomb- in- waiting,
Amidst the torrential rain,
From nowhere came a tremendous explosion,
Accra was in implosion,
Dead bodies flew, strewn in the four winds like flying chicken pieces,
Blood, fire, floods, what next?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana,
Dammirifa due!

Oh, that was a watery way for wayward wenches,
To wade through to meet their dates and dudes,
Alas, the rain had kept date also with the late evening,
Hunters and their prey could not drink their Hunter’s Gold in their haunts,
Yes, it rained deep into the night,
It rained and rained as never before,
As if the windows of heaven were wide open,
And the sky itself was like a badly leaking roof,
Most appointments became disappointments, and missed appointments,
Everyone in Accra that day in June had a rainy disappointment,
It was indeed, a real rainy day that Wednesday, 3rd June 2015 in Accra,
On which innocent souls were sacrificed on the altar of neglect and insanitary insanity,
On the eve of June 4th Revolution Anniversary!
© 2015 Kwesi Atta Sakyi
(Adapted from my poem, Ode to A Heavy Downpour in Lusaka, March 2014)
kwesiattasakyi449@gmail.com