Africa wails
Awake now,
my child!
Awake now,
the weak giant
For those
who know not my name
I am Africa!
Mother of Nigeria
My tears
flood to form a river over my dear son
who still
suck at my bosoms after aging over five decades
I summon
your spirit to strike
Over those
vultures that devour your brave heart.
Who stole
your smile that used to be brighter than the blinding sun, my son?
You are now a gemstone that refuses to smile
in the heart of darkness
A poor
gemstone you are
When the
white hens roost on your eggs
Your eggs were stolen, but healthy you looked
Even with your shackled
wrists
But you fought for freedom
Beware my son; your families are your worst foes!
I mean those black hens
My son, you are no longer hale
They have sucked your blood to the bone
As a greedy vampire does to his victim
You know your foes among them, my son
Awake now,
and don’t howl like that weakling wind
Who fears to
fall fruits from fingers of feeble trees
Roar with
fury like a tempest at its best
which was sent from your Lord without a zest
And ravage
them sooner than my own imagination
Woes I said,
my son, should be their portion.
