To My Fatherland: Ambazonia

There was never a land sweeter than Bamenda
Nor a land so full of honey: Buea
Full of a consanguineous race
A people garnished by love and commensurateness
A people though battered to smithereens
Never for once have cast adrift their rectitude

There was never a land so full of stoicism like Bamenda
Though maimed, have never wept
Though battered, have never laid low
Though shot, have never remained obeisant 
But have always stood up when though dead,
To beat her chest and shout, “I AM BAMENDA”

There was never a land so cherished like Southern Cameroons
That for freedom’s sake
Anglophones would joyfully forfeit their lives
And just as richly put by G.N Gwangwa’a
“If an Anglophone should die,”
Then let him die fighting

Preach these in the streets of Yaoundé
And let it be sung in the halls in Douala
That there was never a proud race like the oppressed Anglophones
Who for freedom’s sake, 
Would willingly lay down their lives

There was never a land so blessed like Ambazonia
Where milk and honey flows;
Never a people so conscious of equality
And while the white and blue flag waves from Buea Mountain
Anglophones embrace freedom.
                                               
                                            Temajung Michael T. [B.A]





        

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




Post Comments
Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.