IT CAME,WE SAE,IT CONQUERED
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Last published Wed, Jul 9, 2025
.Rainfall comes like war." But this isn't just a storm-it's a cultural deluge sweeping across Ghana and Africa! This powerful poem, "It Came, We Saw, It Conquered," rips open the painful truth of a generation-our youth-who, in embracing what they call "modern knowledge," are unknowingly demolishing the very soul of our vibrant heritage.
Watch as respect for elders fades, as ancient traditions are brutally dismissed as mere "superstition," and as the moral compass of our land spins wildly off course. This isn't just poetry; it's a raw, urgent cry from the heart, a testament to what we lose when we blindly admire new wisdom.
We paid for knowledge... but at what devastating cost? I wonder if someone out there can truly grasp the depth of this cultural invasion, this silent war waged against our identity?
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They said the world was ending, but it didn't start with fire or war. It began with a storm-just like any other. But this time, it didn't stop. The rain fell for days, then weeks, and then came the flood that drowned everything. When the sun finally broke through the clouds, people thought it was over. They thought it was hope. But that hope was a lie. The sun scorched the land. Insects bred in the rotting water. Plague spread like wildfire. Water became scarce, food even scarcer. They said Mother Earth was angry, and I believed them. I did everything to survive. Even if it meant relying on a filthy, twisted man for bread. He preyed on girls like me-young, desperate, orphaned. He fed us, clothed us, and in return, demanded we sell our bodies. He called it "the price of protection." Men came to us like vultures. They stripped away our innocence and left us hollow. And then, one winter night, starving people stormed our hideout. They came with knives and desperation. I threw myself in front of the youngest girl when one lunged to stab her. I took the blade meant for her. As my body went cold, I felt no fear. Just peace. Finally, I thought. This nightmare is over. But when I opened my eyes again... I was in my bed. Warm. Dry. Dressed in pajamas. It hadn't been a nightmare. It had been real. And now, it's happening all over again. But this time, I won't be weak. This time, I won't be used. This time... I'll survive. No matter the cost.
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