Old Africa, mother of the black children,
A thought of you tingles my mind,
With joy and sadness,
I smile for your fading beauty,
I cry a thousand tears for your children whom you sold.
Old Africa, to you came a band of suitors,
Wearing their khaki,
Concealing their intentions,
With their yellow boots,
They trampled your sacred places.
Because you fear the fashioned stick,
That spits fire,
You kept still,
While they took away your treasure by force,
Oh, what a rape!
Old Africa, one, a hundred and ten thousand more,
Of your black beauties you sold,
Even beneath and beyond the Atlantic,
There lie their bones,
But the shadows of their souls still parade our homes.
Ugbong Unimke is a young poet writing from the heart of Africa.