I
Started lovely, began smoothly
All the loving accolades we shower
Relishing every bit knowing no bitter
Corking the ears to any dissenting view
Always whispering, “I love you”
Moved humbly
The wedding bells from the corners chime
Then exchanges of rings the affection crown
Clothed in such alluring and radiant gown
The clergy's hand on the couple lay
On such colourful, effulgent day
Then comes the all-time favourite, “You may kiss the bride - Mwah”
And to this, every attendant excitingly exclaims
To live happily ever after
The brides flaunt their rings
Then relive for the most part the joy that brings
The home is built afterward
The home to be an oasis of peace, expects the Lord
Promising serenity and tranquility
Providing warmth to the cold
Giving comfort to the young and the old
That welcoming ambience into which ourselves fold
Is that not enjoyable,
Refreshing and soothing?
Then what’s so eating the home, I ask
No more shielding like porridge in flask
Crippling the home
Blindfolding and leading it to destruction
Stagnating it in the doldrums of annihilation
Our homes
Yes, that’s our home today
Started lovely
Moved humbly
And so thought a house is a home
Until many crumbled like burning foam
Homeless in a home
Unbelievable, yet real
The home’s lost its ‘home-ness’
Incomprehensible, yet so real
I still thought a house is a home
Till many disintegrated like burning foam
The problems fester like cancers
And almost without answers
I still thought a house is a home
Until many disintegrated like burning foam
II
When children become burdensome, troublesome,
Who’s to blame?
Our actions and inactions so contribute
Spending indiscriminately every dime
Every time
On the unplanned, useless
Even reckless
Creating continuous mess
When children become stubborn, rotten,
Who’s to blame?
We consciously and unintentionally shirk our responsibilities
Affecting negatively their sensibilities
Becoming social liabilities
Then they dread less the forbidden
Such are life’s realities
When children become truant, violent
Who’s to blame?
We pamper and flatter even in wrong
Because we claim they are young
Oblivious they are inching into the dung
Fading away to the point of no return
When children become recalcitrant, rebellious,
Who’s to blame?
Daddy sets off dawn and returns dusk
Only to fill his stomach with a heavy dose
And straight to bed he goes
Mama, dines all day at the salon
Dotted with all the gossips in and gone
So when children become social misfits,
Who’s to blame?
When daddy’s always drunk as a skunk
And the gutter becomes that Latex foam mattress
Then alcohol becomes the money sucker
Hand to mouth, an afterthought
School fees payment now the least to consider
Indeed, I thought a house is a home
Until I beheld many disintegrated like burning foam
III
Again, I thought a house is a home
Until I saw many disintegrate like burning foam
A home must be a haven
It’s what I believe in
But not just given on a mere silver platter
Let’s strive to right the wrong
Admittedly, the road seemingly very long
Perseverance and determination, the keys
For the house becomes home
When gradually built like the city of Rome
Considering every situation a correctional moment
But for us parents, a word of advice
Let’s keep our relationship healthy and clean
Avoiding quarrels with the flimsiest excuses
Spending more on the needs, not wants
So the home indeed must comfort
Must lull and shelter
Must give the cold, warmth
And the despair and depressed, hope
Therefore, together our hands on deck
For the house becomes home
When gradually built like the city of Rome
To my friends, some nuggets of wisdom;
Let’s obey our parents unconditionally,
Then enjoyment of longer life our portion
And as they shower their love, so shall they rain discipline
Noting, no discipline seems for the present, joyous,
But painful, yet afterward,
Yielding the peaceable fruit of righteousness
And wisdom by those trained by it.
Still, the house becomes home
When gradually built like the city of Rome
What’s it then we get when we shirk our responsibilities?
Regrettable situations stare us in the face
Let’s work tirelessly to avoid them
Make the house a home
And keep the home’s ‘home-ness’
Therefore, together our hands on deck
For the house becomes home
When gradually built like the city of Rome
...By Joseph Appah
(English Teacher & Acting Headmaster of Start Rite School, Dome)
Facebook: Joseph Onwona Appah
Twitter: @MC_SirJoe
Instagram: @mc_sirjoe
Whatsapp: +233 242 673 002
Email: pcmc.josephappah@gmail.com
