I’m sorry, however the dire state of a Gold Coast turned “Galamsey Republic” ought to concern us all.
Hospitals don’t have any beds to deal with taxpayers, but the gold diggers we pay within the “Galamsey Republic” sleep soundly on snug beds within the consolation of their taxpayer-funded lodging.
I’m sorry, however the gold diggers who relaxation on king-sized beds at evening don’t really feel the ache of those that die on the flooring of our hospitals through the day.
I’m sorry, however it’s naive to consider that the gold diggers within the “Galamsey Republic,” who can afford non-public hospitals overseas, perceive the ache of those that can’t afford public hospitals at residence.
I’m sorry, however it’s a shame when now we have no buses for the poor taxpayer within the “Galamsey Republic,” but the gold diggers we pay are chauffeured of their snug SUVs to their luxurious places of work, funded by these standing within the early morning solar, their faces sweaty, ready for the subsequent ‘trotro’ pushed by an unlicensed driver who would possibly take them to an early grave.
I’m sorry, however I’m shocked you consider that the gold diggers who fly top quality will make your ‘trotro’ troubles their concern.
I’m sorry, however it’s disheartening to see the streets turn into the bedrooms of the poor at evening, whereas the gold diggers within the “Galamsey Republic” fail to ship on their promise of reasonably priced housing. I’m sorry, however those that reside in mansions don’t perceive the plight of the homeless.
I’m sorry, however it’s painful to see younger able-bodied women and men within the “Galamsey Republic” hawking canine chains and groundnuts on the streets with a dogmatic perception that higher jobs are forward. I’m sorry, but when the graduate is unemployed, don’t anticipate a job within the close to future. Christmas remains to be very distant, and Santa Claus is sleeping.
Within the “Galamsey Republic,” the gold-owning chiefs, with their ‘calabashious’ endorsements, beg for his or her share of the “Galamsey” pie in a winner-take-all competitors, the place endorsement would possibly put a chunk of the “Galamsey” cake of their pots and cowries of their calabashes.
I’m sorry, however the gold diggers within the “Galamsey Republic,” whose canines eat greater than the hungry and whose dustbins have extra meals than the poor man’s pot, don’t perceive that the anger of the hungry is just like the wrath of God. Whereas they wine and dine with the taxpayers’ cash, the anger of the hungry boils within the pot close by. They won’t discover it till it pours out like lava from a volcano.
I’m sorry, however I’m not shocked that you simply suppose the gold diggerswhose kids eat ice cream for dessert and pizza for snacks will make your “waakye” struggles their downside.
Within the “Galamsey Republic,” our democracy was a promise of change, however as an alternative, we’re chained to poverty, chasing shadows with no likelihood of claiming our share of the nationwide cake in a winner-take-all competitors. The champion advances the reason for the internal circle, leaving us in our chains, and the foot troopers lick their wounds like canines, anticipating crumbs from the desk, believing at some point we are going to eat from it.
I’m sorry, however woe to us if the gold diggers faux to be preachers, and preachers faux to be prophets, and prophets prophesy for his or her pockets, leaving the perishing to perish and the pulpit to the best bidder, abandoning their calling in a mindless craze for fame.
It’s genocidal for voices of morality to stay loudly silent whereas the grasping exploit the needy, driving them to dig their very own graves in a galamsey pit.
I’m sorry that you’re not sorry that I’m sorry, as a result of for you, the sorry state of the “Galamsey Republic” is your benefit.
I’m sorry, however I nonetheless can’t suppose far.