Call Me Africa
Call me Africa,
The land of the ancient chiefs
That lie in ruins.
Iam the sun-scorched plains
And the roar of Mosi oa tunya.
Iam the rolling hills
And the lush green valleys
Where rainclouds come to rest
And the mopane is plentiful.
Call me Africa!
Iam the roar of the lion
Sending waves of fear
Through the land and scattering his prey.
Iam the beat of the drum
In the dead of the night
Evoking the spirit of the supreme God
For showers of benediction
Upon our ancestral lands.
Iam Africa,
The battered and bruised young girl
Molested by the hands of colonisers.
With bleeding knees and her pride in tatters
She hobbles on.
The future is dark and uncertain
But she is a woman ,she will overcome.
Copyright © Acacia Unabii | Year Posted 2020
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