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Father Africa
Father Africa! At a token ignorance,
You have given your inheritance:
To strangers you gave amuch
White loonies who do not eat in our dish.
Behold, with some sham laughter;
They transacted for few daughter;
They bring clothes and rum and guns
To shackle away your sons.
Father Africa, foolish you!
Lo! See Mama Africa cry
Her hapless tears undry
On her black beautiful, dark dimples
Oh Africa, chaos ripples.
See your sons brutally unfair
Taking hostage His own kin at warfare,
Selling them at ludicrous token
Oh Africa, your woes betoken!
The sun rose in great grief
And shambled to rest in dumb disbelief,
The rivers pensive in their bank.
Our follies deserve on thank;
Africa sells her prime at twenty pounds,
Her offspring shackled to foreigngrounds
On a fettered peregrination to the coasts,
They await shipment for wicked hosts.
Father Africa, foolish you!
Has that token twenty pounds
Suffice the pandemic poverty that pounds
You and Your offspring on the head?
Those you sold - million tears shed
You caused them sorrowful spiritual to sing
They endlessly labour where trepidations ring,
They suffer severe discomfort - unfair!
They dwell in dejected despise and despair.
poem
by
Joseph Oladehinde Ibikunle
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