Page 65 - Msingi Afrika Magazine Issue 12
P. 65

MY  AFRIKA
                                                                                                            Arts




                                                                   OUR WORST ENEMIES
                                                                            (A POEM)



                                                                     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.


                                                                 By Ejuchegahi A. Angwa









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