Akanmu

Eroju ole ekomu, Eroju ole ekomu, Omoyin kosagbafo onkasowale, Eroju ole ekomu. This in astonishment my spirit wane, Of the drum that echoes from afar, with no dancer that its sound be in vain. In soundness of mind my heart focuses on Akanmu, The elderly son of Ojewale, Whose birth our common enemies never prefer, In their claims do Ojewale household rejoices at liberty, Suffering in wealth do they celebrate their Passover. Will i be right to purge out the name of Akanmu? For the awesome things he is doing to make our purse empty, Like the Executives and the Legislators of a country that sit on a tower, That in ghanamustgo and agbada its wealth is enveloped to the slave Master. Yet Oyenusi in their hands knows no peace until he's brought down, And every back that is turn against them is the enemy of democracy. Oponu nparare oni oun pa olowo oun. But the instinct of our men is enclose to this, that before the end of four years they come to appease our gluttons. At the end, the next generations die from its disease. My great friend Akanmu, When will your soul gain its liberty from the light fingering of yours? That all will be assure of your innocence in the time of doubt and discrepancy. This do not start big but from little things. He who much is given, much is expected!