The cream of our youths
The best of our natural resources
Were captured and looted into slavery
By those imperialist cancers, the whitemen
Who came as innocuous hunters of fortunes
Yes it is true I mean, so it was
But that is a cry over spilt milk
Now that the whites are gone
What imparts has our black dictators done
Than parading on best cotton and silk
Ignoring the remaining youths
Today they even on bended kneels
Beg the whites to be smuggled
To feed on pig’s food like the prodigal son
Choosing to be prisoners there
Than free men in the land of their own
When a dog returns to his vomit
His road will end where it started
Is our independence our freedom?
That is a food for thought
Where is our all celebrated wealth?
Taken to same whitemans’ land?
Can our leaders answer?
All are stories of shattered dreams
Oh! Crippled giant, where art thy legs
Refuse dump of the white world
Hear thy child as he bitterly say’
I am proud of my color and culture
But ashamed that we are our worst enemies.
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Ejuchegahi A. Angwa is an interdisciplinary scholar of African descent. He holds degrees and a postgraduate diploma in Journalism, Education, Philosophy, Theology, Sociology and Religious Studies. He believes in the advancement and remaking of post-colonial Africa and that Africa can and should take her rightful place in the 21st century.