Africa, where is thy greatness?

Your sons suffocate on the fields of fruitless strife
Our suburbs lay besieged and defenceless
To the spear of foes who seek your life

Everywhere even this sphere echoes of alien pistols
Disrupt the harvest fields of you blue moons

Your land are barren-full of thorns and thistles
I can hardly grasp a glance of your foretold fortunes
O! Africa, My Africa! Wake up from your accursed sleep
Your children hunger for civilization

Wake up! Groom your fields, rear your sheep
Fight for the sovereignty of your reputation

O! Africa, my fatherland! Remember your days wax heftier,
Your children shall seek a repose to hide your grey hair

So I see them coming
Right here in my mind
Who are this people
I ask!….

(to be continued…)