For a teacher in a remote area

This poem was written by an urban poor member of the People's Democratic Party and JAKER (see accompanying article).

Don't care
A speck of rain
Body and bones freezing.
An old black bicycle
Peddled by old feet
Hardly shoed.
The wheels of the bike are bald rings
Travelling over an unsealed road
Slippery and of jagged stone.
Your old and skinny feet
No longer capable
Of turning the pedals.
Miles of distance that you cross
To the place where you teach language
Your stiffness and rheumatism
Are like friends to you every day.
You have created the people
With title
At all levels of Society.
It has responded to your goodness,
Merit and goodwill.
Your physical exertion is answered with
Poverty and starvation
These have greeted your goodness.
You can't afford to buy pain relief
Your wage as a teacher automatically goes to
Your thin wife and children
Your teacher's allowance is out of your hands.
By Ayi Topan

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