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The 9th DISASTER ANNIVERSARY


Once upon a time is a statement in my early days book.
No matter how sad or blissful your goodnight face may look,
My dad will gracefully get a bible story to cook.
This man can conjure and may brew from the unleavened brook.
Then he told me how stable our stadiums were until they once-upon-a-day shook.

That's why I have lived with Ghana's may nineth.
A true once-upon-a-time that changed day into night.
My first ever soccer game in Accra  to witness,
Unraveled to my surprise the hearts-kotoko weakness,
And the Men-in-black policing with strategic bruteness.
That which TV3 captioned "May 9th Disaster Anniversary"
Which for a decade stood as Africa's worst football stadium story.

Coinciding with my first day in Accra celebration, 
As I moved from the far West to settle in the so-called southern region.
In fact, come see a villager turned into a legion. 

But there is a way of man that eats him up,
Maybe because we drink from a poisoned cup.
And if we wait till people die before we remember them in our days,
We shall forever tell of legends who were so brave,
But like Julius Ceaser, we all stabbed them to their grave.

This write up is to raise awareness of surving footballers,
May 9th disaster playmakers,
Who from 2001 have lived as heroic sufferers,
With no option but to join the peasantry of their village farmers.

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