In 1945, Dr Joseph Boakye Danquah wrote a poem to celebrate his Golden Jubilee on earth.The poem summarised his life, profession and politics up to that time. Like or hate him, this
I edited news and sold it;
I dyed my hair and stopped it;
I espied a truth and published it;
I gospelled youth and gave them faith;
I coloured my State and edged it;
I wooed a Golden Lady and engaged her;
I visioned Great Akan and slaved for it;
I fueled research and natived it;
I entertained family and paid for it;
I stood up to the English and preferred them;
I denounced Evil and annoyed it;
I encountered Pilate and he washed his hands of it;
I kept the Golden Rule and embroidered it;
I saw life was a wicked thing and I loved it.
Then after ten years, in 1955, Dr. J.B. Danquah added a continuation in commemoration of
his DIAMOND JUBILEE.
I sat in Council and outmoded it;
I pushed the hand and the ‘hour struck’;
I deserved Siberia and he got it;
I talked to Watson and he got it;
I united the six and one split;
I stuck to Grant and he survived it;
I married again and she suffered me;
I hit C.P.P. and I stumbled it;
I took a count and stood erect;
I aimed at a star and hitched U.N.;
I lost a seat and found a Stool;
I kept on searching and found Ghana;
I sponsored the name and it stuck.”
I LOVE A WOMAN by Dr. J.B. Danquah
You’d be shocked to realize who wrote the long poem below. It is interlaced with a few clues though. Finish reading and make an intelligent guess which renowned politician wrote
I love a woman,
She’s a black woman.
Her skin is soft
And cool in touch,
Like wind from Mampong hill.
She is tall, but not too tall,
In size is well proportioned:
Slim and slender and rounded,
Like carving done in ebony.
There is lustre in her hair,
Sweeping upward from the temple,
To a shock background of waves,
Black, like a storm tossed sky,
Unruly from the high tornado,
It illuminates the setting sun,
In a halo of crimson gold.
My live is a queen,
A gracious queen,
In walk, in peace, in gait,
There is aueendom in her carriage,
And she strides a throne of motion,
In her silhouette combinations.
Not slow in getting there,
Not fast in coming near,
She sails over the earth and me,
Like a swan on the Serpentine.
Robed from her crown to heel,
In foods of gorgeous cloths,
Her tiny feet are fringed in red,
And bordered in rouge of strange allure.
Her legs I have not seen.
Because of old tradition,
Like Victorian crinoline,
Her legs are dropped in longish robes,
And it’s hard to see the extremities.
Love, they say, can conquer all,
And constancy to what I adore.
May yet reveal a true vision,
Of the stand her legs can make.
The intimidation’s of harmony,
Given in her stream of steps,
Affect my mind with joys to come,
Of gentle beauty,
And firm contact with Mother Earth.
Often have I seen her arms,
In treasured moments of chivalry,
Bring comfort to me and mind,
And cheer to broken hearts.
Artist to her fingers’ tips,
With each she speaks a tongue.
To unfold her varied worth,
And express her mind in moods.
Her wrists are rich in things that cheer,
And things that bring content.
If there is goodness in chocolate,
It’s colour has her colour,
The tinge her hands can give.
Her magic touch contains a thrill,
And tenderness travels from it,
To fill the longing in your throat.
I often see her face,
Often in my dreams,
Open, like an Egyptian queen’s,
Full of high expectancy,
It’s confident and self-possessed,
The form carved in chisels,
Of arching broad to point:
A high forehead,
A prying jaw,
A nose that crowns repose,
Yaa Amponsa had no beauty,
Unless her beauty could match this dream.
More matured than adolescent,
Her flesh is young and warm;
The lips are arched and seem to coo,
With the magic of her eyes:
Twi bewitching pools of fire.
I saw her last,
A little tired,
Just home from adventurous trip
She spoke of live that could have been,
Her bosom heaved;
And her bosom heaved again,
There was sadness in her eyes,
An eclipse in her vision.
A wistful look,
A troubled brow,
A distant look of distress;
Her heart had loved and lost,
And won this trepidation.
Then, like the rising sun at dawn,
Beyond the dark hotizon,
Her eyes were lit with burning fire,
More brilliant than had been.
Distress had disappeared.
With the diamond drops of tears,
And where old hope had been before,
I saw a new determination,
For she sang the Eagle’s song:
‘The suspense, and suspense!
And birds on the wing.
That Gyekye, the wretch!
But I am grateful to him.
The suspense, and suspense,
And birds on the wing!
Ntakraboa, yaa yaa!
Me da Gyekye ase!
Ntakraboa, yaa, yaa!
I love a woman,
A black woman,
Akosa Adae is her true name,
Or Asi in Fantiland.
For Sunday was her day of birth
And Adae is the festive day
When her father,
And her mother,
Rejoice that their child was born,
A goddess to love and cherish.
I love a woman,
A black so an.
Golden is her personal name,
Guinea’s Golden Lady,
As christened by her God-fathers,
But from birth,
This morning, I posted a poem titled, “The Woman I Love”. This poem was written in 1936 by Dr. J.B. Danquah upon his return from England as the Secretary of the Gold Coast and Ashanti Delegation to the Colonial Office.
The portion, “I saw her last. A little tired. Just home from a venturous trip. She spoke of love that could have been. Her love for men abroad”, etc reminds one of the remarks of Nana Sir Ofori Atta KBE, Kt, as Chairman of the Colonial Office delegation.
While giving his impressions of the discussions to the London Press in his drawing room flat at Knightsbridge, Nana Sir Ofori Atta KBE, Kt, in response to a pointed question from one of the journalists, as to how he took the days rebuff at the Colonial Office, said, “I am disappointed but not discouraged”.
Interestingly decades later in 1996, his grandson, Dr Jones Ofori Atta contested for the NPP flagbearership. Very upbeat on his chances, he ended with a single three votes.
When cornered by journalists about his view regarding his performance, he also took inspiration from his grandfather and remarked, “I’m disappointed but not discouraged”.
To all who attempted answering and actually got it right, congratulations!
My dear friend,