A Poetic Epistle To Liberia


Oh, Liberia My Dear Homeland

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, the beauty of your landscape is remarkably breathtaking in that it marvels and bedazzles the eyes of the world, yet you are underdeveloped.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, you’re fine belly is stuffed with an abundance of natural resources, as God the Almighty has endowed you so bountifully and graciously.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, you are Africa’s oldest Republic but arguably the least underdeveloped and home to the poorest people in the world despite a fortune of natural endowment.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland from since your historic founding, you have been plagued by bad governance and your existence has been marred by chains of dreadful and stupid civil wars and strifes, to which hundreds of thousands of your innocent children lost their precious lives and millions of dollars worth of infrastructure and private properties destroyed.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, over your 174 years of striving existence, you have been abused and misused by your sons and daughters who rule over you as governors.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, the decadence, debauchery, morass, and scorching despair you have been subjected to cannot compare to any anywhere on the African continent.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, my heart bleeds for your and I am ashamed of the place I call home. Perennial public corruption, extreme poverty, impunity, sycophancy, nepotism, parochialism, patronage, partisanship, bigotry, hatred, witch hunt, division, exclusion, barbarity, tribalism, regionalism, infamy, and degeneracy are the characteristics that perfectly illustrate you.

Oh, Liberia, my homeland rather than love, your children despise you. They lie and deceive you and your citizens more often than not. When they are seeking power, they express love, sympathy, and empathy for you and slam the excesses and abnormalities that are obtaining in the land, but the moment they assume state power they automatically become marauding monsters. They misrule the country, loot its resources, amass tons of wealth, and plunge the masses of the people into the doldrums of poverty, hunger, and strive, and misery.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland your educational system is not only substandard but a national disgrace. Your healthcare system is not only undesirable but an existential disaster.

Oh, Liberia, my dead homeland at 174, where are your superhighways, bridges, airports, seaports, electric grid, pipe born water supply, modern infrastructure et others, as we see in Ghana, Nigeria, Cote d’ Voire, and the rest of your sister countries?

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, on the dawn of your Bicentennial what have you to show to the world? Where is your signature product to the world? What do you manufacture? What does the world know you for and what distinguishes you in the comity of nations?

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, at 174 your children would still have you begging for aid and loan to survive amid plentiful natural resources. What a shame and a sham!

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, I can feel your grieve and pains. I can see you wailing with rivers of tears pouring down your beautiful cheeks. I can see you yearning for genuine change. I hear your bold whispers for a new brand of leaders that will treat you and your people with love and respect. Leaders who will convert your natural resources into socio-economic prosperity for your people and developer your intriguing landscape with modern infrastructure. Revolutionary leaders who are selfless, loving, caring, gracious, compassionate, progressive, and more importantly, patriotic.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, I can see in your eyes the burning yearning for good governance, transparency, accountability, stability, justice, equality, unity, and peace in your bosom.

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, as I pen these lines in your honor, my emotions are running high. My heart is pounding. My nerves are cracking and my hands are cold. Why must your children treat you so cruelly? How can we be so poor and undeveloped in a land of bountiful wealth? How can malaria and other curable illnesses be decimating us in this modern age? How can we not have cheap, reliable, and adequate electricity and water with all that we have?

Oh, Liberia, my dear homeland, your noble and patriotic children have asked me to tell you that change is on the horizon. The day is coming when you will be loved and not misruled and gang-looted. The day is coming when your people will not lack and grapple with hunger. The day is coming when your land will blossom with peace and socio-economic prosperity and your people will glee in surplus. The day is coming where justice will reign in the land and national dignity will be the order of the day. Real Change is coming, Mama Liberia, my dear homeland. I Love you Mama Liberia, my dear, homeland.

By. Moncio Robert Wilmot Kpadeh (Sage)


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