The tick-tock tick-tock of the clock is almost a nuisance now. The son of the land can’t wrap his head around what is to come. There is anxiety and there is confusion. In the midst of all these there are security transactions going on. The whole nation is silent and watching. The whole world is silent and listening. The news outlets are talking and everything is kind of a relentless dread.
Streets of Bimbilla after 6 pm
We the sons of the land are receiving countless number of ‘peace’ keepers pouring in with the tools of ‘peace’. Some are leaving, some are running, some are indeed confused while most are scared. Can you blame anyone for anything?
It looks like we are at point where moving forward is suicidal, standing still is impossible and moving back is cowardice.
Yet in this stage of our situation there is still a glimmer of hope and a reason to foresee light at the end of the tunnel. In the midst of all the fear and confusion, there is still a reason to believe in the sons of the land. When a man is tired and weary it becomes visible and such is the state of the great sons of the land.
Bimbilla and Nunung have come far and far we must go. Let it not be said that our generation came and ended the reign of Nanung among its equals. The land of Nanung is yet to see its best and we must be the ingredients of hope and not that of destruction. Can the birds, winds, trees, sheep and goats that roam the nights while we are locked inside our rooms hold firearms and kill people?
If there is light, it is we the sons of the land that must provide it and if there is darkness it is we that are responsible. So what kind of a son chooses darkness over light? Why should we be afraid? Why should we be confused? What is the state of the land today, how about yesterday? What good have our generation of ‘literates’ left for the land?
I remember yesterday we went together, singing songs of hope and strength to defend our territorial boundaries from undue invasion. After our struggle, we came together to heal our wounded and bury our death. We forged together with songs and drums in a spirit of joy and hope. We thought this was the time to beat the world. It was a time we would have replayed to show to our growing youth so they can go out knowing many brave sons have done great sacrifice for the land.
Drumming and Dancing in traditional colors.
Unfortunately, I can’t speak of us today, we are divided and in a state of continuous destruction of our very own existence. We have become resolute to see to our extinction. Some people ask, how many are we the true sons in our own territorial denomination?
Well, enough of our mistakes, enough of our dark little history, enough of our forgetfulness of who we were. We are the Nanumbas, the flicker of cloud has left our minds. Now we can see clearly where we need to be and there we must. We are ready to quite our exchange of pride and ego and work together again as sons of the land. Our land is about to bloom and like the wise sons, we are ready with our baskets to harvest.
I was fighting with my brother and in the midst of it I took a stick and hit him hard with my greatest state of fury. He fell to the floor and there I was, holding on to my tool of destruction I begun wondering “Did I just forget for a second that this was my brother whom I loved so much? Did I just forget for a second that this is the guy I miss so much when he is not around. Come on, that could not have been me. After all, for what reason on this earth should I have be this angry with my brother?”.
As a wise son coming back to my senses, I quickly reach to the floor, picked him up and got him cleaned and with the little I had, I bought him a drink to calm him down. We talked and laughed and that bad moment was gone.
That is the character of true sons, it is normal and almost usual to have quarrels but it should have a point when you snap out of it and say, “enough is enough and we are not doing this anymore”. This is that point for the great sons of Nanung.
Children with placards asking for peace.
It is time to prove to the world again that we merely just had a brotherly quarrel and we can be good to each other again. This is the point where we the sons of the land call it a quit. We are through, and we are moving ahead. We have recorded this as a disappointing misbehavior in history which our children shall never inherit.
It is time again when the sons of the land can go back home and feel safe. We have missed the times when laughter was the only loud sound in the land, when drumming was the only noise and chanting for our own was the only shouts. We have missed the times where the youth of the land were so enterprising that the land was a shinning star among its peers.
The supreme court verdict is almost here and that is the turning point of our future. That is the point we must make the ultimate sacrifice for our prosperity. That is the point every son of the land should make a personal pledge to let go for the good of us and the land. The verdict is nothing but a starting point. The verdict can’t make us but we are ready to make ourselves with it. Our actions or inaction after that point will decide whether we are back or we are still locked away in our suicidal state.
However, we the sons know that we don’t need soldiers, we don’t need arms and we don’t need guide, we have had enough and we are ready to reunite irrespective of what the court decides with our issue. We are a generation of diplomats and we have resolved to handle every matter diplomatically rather than bullishly. We are the land and nothing matters more than our very own lives. The blood that have been spilled is enough sacrifice for our future of everlasting peace. We say no to war, we say no to blood shed and we say no to violence of any kind.
We missed the days when at the dawn of Ramadan the Muezzin calls for prayers to remind us to stop eating. It is so sad that we have to pray 3 of the Hamsat Salawat indoors in the month of Ramadan. Alas! we are tired and we say we have had it. It is we that we are being defended from. Can you even imagine the irony in that statement? What kind of a son is in such a constant state of suicidal tendencies? Such was not the ways of our fathers and such must not be and is not our ways.
To every true son of Nanung out there, it is time to come home and build the land from where we paused. This will soon be behind us and we will again laugh and make merry together. One day we will tell each other of this period of our time and laugh. We have learnt enough through the hard way.
Lets make use of our strategic thinking for prosperity and not for war, sons argue, they don’t go to war. Let us be wiser than our ego and smarter than our hearts. Lets remember we are the people and for us we must prevail. Long live Nanung, long live the sons and daughters of the land. Peace!!!
First appeared on my website www.ehmkannde.com