The home of the true son of the soil
A land flowing with milk and honey
Until the men in whites, came from a long way away
Like the adversary to steal, kill and destroy
Subdued us for their gain by slow pretence, with traitorous act of love
All in the missionary vest of colonialism
Our leaders were too blind to see
Even Ifá Olókun Asòròdayò,
Òrúnmílà Baba Àgbomìrègún and Obàtálá Obàtáàsà turned a deaf ear to the cries from the oceans
"What kills the eyes must surely kill the heart"
One bottle of whiskey was all it takes
Until our father's father wanders as slaves in a land known to be unknown.
"Democracy should be the way out
But remember to unify them in peace
And diversify them in peices"
Democracy turned out to be a good riddance to our crazy demonstration
Now our liberty lies in penury
Now they are pointing fingers
They left us to despair, accusing us of no repair
Perhaps Africa should die
Perhaps Africa will know peace when it turns into a graveyard
Perhaps Africa will rise when the blacks are dead and buried.
Africa my Afrika
Africa where street beggars has turned to bankers and money changers
Africa was supposed to be a refuge ,it became a refuse
Africa where civilization has become too uncivilized
Like a thoughtless animal ,the only thing she really feels is Me Myself My Family and My Descendants
Africa where bribery reigns and corrupt minded people slays
Africa lost the light of the day and all sense of direction
Africa has proven to be unwise in the ways of the unforgiving world of man.
But let this be known to all asunder
That though Africa is dead
Psychologically, economically and politically
Though we do the unthinkable for the unreasonable
Though we questioned and destroyed our foundation, thanks to colonialism
That sooner than later
The blind shall see that which the eyes failed to see
Africans will love Africa for what it is
Africans will value Africans for who they are
And Africa will rise above the utmost thought of man.