by: Naa Doodua Doodu (Little Observer)
In a country where money laundering and misuse of funds are served like a daily meal, who dies and who grows?
We live in a land where life is traded like loose change.
Where a man will snuff out another’s breath for coins that cannot even keep his stomach full for a month.
The soil drinks blood for bread, yet the hunger remains.
We live in a system where bribes are the toll gates of survival.
The medicine sits on the shelf, the bed waits in the ward, but the hand must bleed before it is given.
The river of care is dammed until silver unlocks its flow.
How does such a system keep afloat? It survives by eating its own.
We plunder our nation’s treasures and slap a family name on them, calling theft a legacy.
What was built for millions is locked behind iron gates, while the starving die just outside the wall.
The mansion swells, but the village shrinks.
This corruption has killed more than bodies—it has strangled the very spirit of honest work.
Why should a young person rise at dawn, sharpen a skill, and build slowly when every day he sees that shortcuts pay more?
We have taught a generation that hard work is a fool’s errand, and honesty is a prison sentence.
So people would rather kill their way out.
https://thecrucialobserver.com/in-love-with-a-priest/
And if they don’t kill their way out, they die inside the system.
They die waiting for the hospital, die waiting for the job, die waiting for justice.
The clock ticks, but the doors never open.
We must ask ourselves, what are we teaching?
We are teaching that life is cheap, and money is god.
We are teaching that the country belongs to no one, so anyone can take it.
We are teaching our children to survive without conscience.
And a country that teaches this cannot grow.
It can only puff up in a few houses while it rots everywhere else.
The future we are stealing to protect will one day inherit the ruins we leave behind.
The nation is a tree gnawed from within; the axe forgets, but the roots remember.