Old Lion Goes Mad

It’s not a tale The truth would bring to bear: The old lion has gone mad again! We lived in ancient houses made with mud Days amounted to years long ago The forests had survived it The whites came, taught us to hew down trees We fell most of these trees, Moved to the city The lion was the hunter’s best friend He protected us, escorted us when we went on tours There we tamed his teeth And calmed his mind. We lived in peace Lo! Somehow now he bares his teeth Tears humans into pieces The old lion has gone mad again! We feel insecure, the young ones The pain must endure Lost has been the lives of loved ones Our souls we must guard too We sleep at nights with many fears The old lion we all know has gone mad again! Who would recount our history? Tell us to despise all the bad mysteries? Who would urge us to forge ahead and fight on? And guide us to heaven? Our sense of attachment, our feeling of belongingness To mother Africa is lost? For the reason that --- The old lion we tamed years ago Has now gone mad? Where are our aged herbalists, the gong-gong beaters? Our linguists, the men of war? Who would treat, cure--- soothe the old lion? Who has gone mad again!