Don’t call me names little one I am the least you ever could beat So allow my spirit to sleep And set me free from this scary beep ‘Coz if I were a beast, I would have used you as meat for my teeth Than you been blessed like the Gates, Of arrowing wealth and destined fate By arresting my life in a daunting cage Brief Description The Gnani witch camp in Ghana’s Northern Region is home to roughly 600 ‘witches,’ ‘wizards’ and children who have been exiled from their communities for allegedly practicing witchcraft. Most are elderly women blamed for inexplicable misfortunes that happen in the community such as child deaths, bad weather or weak harvests. This is fuming, archaic and I opted to document their’ plight and stories in a poem for its abolishing . I would like to continue this project and spend more time documenting and learning about their lives and social issues confronting the African continent in Poetic forms.
- Fashion revamped, and dare I say, a lesson in business