Obiri, the
village wag, is no more
The very
crooked hands that scared the hell out of children
But still
able to have a positive side, were gone
They were
hands that moved with an uncanny and amazing dexterity on drums
That sent
spasms of elated happiness and exorcism to the priests of Tigare, Biribi and
Galawu
Inciting
them to dance and sing for hours on end
Is now going
to be missed.
The days of
old and tradition are also long gone
And that is
the pity
Because
there will be nobody to drum Obiri
To his new
abode
There will
be nobody to get frenzied
To remind us
all of the magic displays, of Obiri's hands on drums.
The reason
is not far-fetched
For, all the
great priests, have succumbed to an unkind and wicked death
Great men
like Dankwa, Twum, Nyina, and Kwaw Yekyere are no more
Aweredoa,
the only one still alive is walking wounded, too weak to be of any use
Obiri is no
more but not dead
Obiri,
cannot be dead, he is just asleep
For after
all old generals do not die, they just fade gloriously away
Obiri was a
well-decorated general
A different
kind of general though
His type was
to bring joy into all wounded hearts and sad souls
Oh! My
village wag Obiri
The ace
drumbeater, who made the priests of Biribi
Possessed
for hours on end in frenzied exorcism
Just through
the sheer potency of his drumbeat
A drumbeat
whose scintillating echoes of joy was felt in the innermost hearts of all and
sundry
Obiri,
indeed, cannot be dead
With a man
of no physique
Twitched
mouth and ever-flowing saliva
The ugliest
of the ugly
Life, for
you should have been on alms
But not
gallant Obiri
Effervescent
Obiri
Lively
Enthusiastic
Humorous
He worked
hard for his keep
Refusing to
be defeated by the flaws in God's handiwork
Obiri, the
wag you will remain a shining example for all of us
Oh! My
village wag, Obiri,
Do rest in
peace
You were an
extremely hardworking man during your time with us
You achieved
many feats that made many your contemporaries cringed in envy
You were an
accomplished, palm wine taper, distiller, drummer, and farmer
To mention
just a few of your manifold talents
What you
lacked was beauty
So, if you
decide to return into our midst, the Old Man Above, should be kind to you this
time
And give you
a touch of beauty to complement your abundant skills
Abundant
skills, which you unselfishly used to entertain and bring joy
Into all
hearts
Old General,
I promise you that you are going to be missed by many
Young and
old, women and men, the living and the half-dead will all miss you. Rest in
peace.
