United by a common descent,
bound by a common heritage,
Africa, the dinner table of the world,
whose milk is the world's strength.
Africa, the theatre of starvation and classy hunger,
our dreams at stake, our real hopes and
values crashing into our hands.
A nation to many, father to mankind,
yet, himself a pauper.
Our land ruined by a phalanx of greed and depression,
phalanxes who told us
civilisation in recompense for slavery,
we held our pride and fought,
We won after castles of gold were built in Europe, and
we returned to worship hunger.
Our world's blinded in darkness, our hopes withered,
yet, the world in standstill,
to do without us is their bane,
or they perish.
Yet, all this ends up with executive commissions
to offer aid and lend to us our wealth.
Afrikaa, when would our world be restored?
When would our hopes evolve from shadows into light?
Shall we sit and watch, while we are made
docile for Europe's unborn generation,
only to live on books and dwell in tents of poverty
structured by falsehood of leaders with
corrupt genes, or pray to gods
who failed our dreams?
Our hope lies with us,
our world we would take back,
our dignity in the strength of our skins,
we would fight and win,
the world in trouble,
our rights we would restore,
wait and watch.
Adekanmbi Adeshile Olaolu
Copyright © 2003 |
