Treasure Island

Michael Odor

(1979 / Owerri, Imo state Nigeria)

African Prayer


It was very far indeed, decades past,
Oh! our forefathers cried for help, help against suppression,
inhuman treatment and against pretentious posture in the name of a religion.
Help eluded them and their younger generations afterwards.
It later came with pretense on its face.
It came without sincerity.
Our younger fathers danced to the same tune of music played to their forebearers.
Genuine help was murdered in their hearts long time ago.
Think Africa! Must you continously cry for help with your tomorrow in your hands?
Yes, they owe us!
For our manhood they beautifully gained from, leaving us to wallow in the glorious state they left us.
They played gods then and still gods now.
Hence, we move to their directions.
They know we are great, but would distract us from believing in ourselves.
Mama Africa! ! The land of first light, wake thy children.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 04, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, September 05, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Am inspired by the need for Africans to exert themselves in taking care of our problems by ourselves with confidence and sincerity of purpose. It is dedicated to our shining lights in Africa.

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