So many have been stolen-
And our faces are swollen-
From tears and the furnace of hopelessness
Which our people have subjected their fatherland.
When the breeze blew,
We seem not to have enough of it.
When the farm harvest grew-
We seem not to have enough to eat.
So many things are wrong-
In this land, we seem not to belong!
Today it is “operation eradicate poverty”
No fresh air of freedom-
But the touch of Spasm
That lay siege on every household,
As we scurry through this thorny road.
God alone knows how many-
Of my country men-
That have been lost in a far away snowy land-
With no burning spirit of ever returning.
The land is in shambles, the people are in shackles!
Sometimes we sing ourselves to sleep,
And mothers with their children weep
While the men are barred to the barren thought of survival.
We humans make the world,
But out of scorn, loosen the chord-
That binds us together as one.
©2009 Adeleke Ayinla