Ohia

Today I saw poverty,

She was clothed in rags, with tattered chale wote on her blistered feet,

Carrying at her back a malnourished sleeping baby.

Today I saw poverty,

He was pushing sacks of rice on a truck,

Mopping sweat off his face,

Straining against his heavy load in the scorching sun.

Today I saw poverty,

She was old and frail,

Sitting under the scorching sun selling her wares of used crocs,

Just to make a few cedis.

Today I saw poverty,

He was about age 11 or 12,

Risking his life in traffic selling lemons,

Should he not be in school?

Today I saw poverty,

In all its splendor and arrogance,

I'm reminded of an inscription I once saw at the back of a trotro,

“Ohia hiɛ fɛlɛfɛlɛ.”