This Is How We Talk of Freedom
What could be said of chains?
If not armoury, after what’s left
What could be said of armoury?
If not injury, after the scars
What could be said of injury?
If not a name, left on lips of today
Our owner's name tattooed
On our coloured skin, stayed.
But now we say its swag from shops
The sugar, the cotton, all know
Our feigns, the sun, the rain, winter
Till this day.
The birds sang our lyrics in tearful tones
And loosed them to the vastness
Of the sky
Of pains of shame of dog chains
Of tapes of rapes of games of fate
But now in raps of history our
Revolution roll, rise & sailed till
This day we say “we be free! Man!”
Gideon Idudje
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