Spare the rod, spoil the child
Our cultural heritage is far scattered sundry and wild
Whites superiority captured our mentality,
Brought forth bad tidings, segregation and negativity
My fatherland oh Africa!
An aggrandized robe designed with glory and glamour
With humane terrain conspicuously showcasing serene ambience
spread on this terrestrial ball
with golden…green scenery.
I still can’t decipher the morning from the toiling,
Our Terra firma is losing the integrity and uniqueness it is known to be
Even the colossal nations imbibed this in a twinkling of an eye all in the name of civilization,
Forgetting the fact that it was initially rooted by us in the hieroglyphical era
Neglecting how it will affect generations to come.
Oh sons of the soil!
Hearken to the clarion call of the black race
A call of resuscitation and to glory
Let’s regain this gourd of honour,
And reset our minds to factory setting
Let’s dismiss the notions instilled by the whites and embrace our inherited culture
Here awaits our desired utopia.
© Ewete Emmanuel
Photo credit: medium.com