A REGGAE-LOVING youth worker has written a series of poems in aid of a run-down African orphanage.
Mark Samuels — known as Natty Mark — has produced a compilation of his verse in the hope it will inspire people to get involved in helping the Kumasi Children’s Home in Ghana.
The Iffley Mead School teaching assistant, who also works at The Mish youth club, in St Clement’s Street, visited the children’s home for the first time last year.
He was one of a party from The Mish who helped to decorate the home’s living area, which houses 200 orphans . It had no electricity when he visited in August.
Mr Samuels, 45, said visiting Africa for the first time had inspired him to write.
On his return he compiled his work into Achimota: Love Poems to Ghana — which costs £3, with all proceeds going to the home.
Father-of-two Mr Samuels, from Townsend Square, East Oxford, said: “I had always dreamed of going to Africa and finally I was there. It opened up a lot of feelings.
“You hear about Africa in the newspapers and on TV, but when you actually see it yourself you get a much more positive image of it.
“These poems are just a snapshot of my time there.”
The anthology includes an ode to Achimota, the part of Ghana Mr Samuels stayed in first, a call to “Rastaman” to visit the “land of ancestor”, and the atmospheric The Downpour Is Over which describes African assaults on the senses.
Since his return from Africa, Mr Samuels has also been putting on regular reggae fundraising nights in Oxfordshire.
His efforts have raised more than £580, which will go towards further improvements at the home.
He said: “I hope the poems will inspire people to get involved in fundraising, and if they love reggae they can come along to the functions.
“The children need the help. The mattresses were just in a state and the rooms were very dark. The staff are trying their best, but it is hard work.”
To find out where you can get a copy of Achimota: Love Poems to Ghana or for more information on Mr Samuels’ reggae gigs, email nattyhifi@googlemail.com ghamilton@oxfordmail.co.uk
HIS WORK
This is the first time I have seen the body of water that took us across.
First time I’ve stood at the shore of the Atlantic.
And I think of waves.
Waves of people going out, waves of people coming in.
Waves of disbelief and agony.
Waves of anger, for we saw the condemned cell of the rebel slave.
Waves of those who think they have been forsaken, damned, for what they do not know.
Tonight I think of the sound of waves.
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules here