Paper Gold Poem by Frederick Banda

It is mine. Yes, it was I, who stole our tribal crown.
I wrestled it from the tribal council's hands.
The militants that I have paid make my tribesmen pay a ransom for my all pains.
I will wear my tribal crown as long as I can afford to pay, the militants their daily wage.
I will not spend time on noble cause, not for tribe or any God.
My only cause is to wear this tribal crown and get my share of paper gold.
I will influence all my kind, be he brother, friend or tribe's man to give to those that bring me paper gold all the land my tribe possess.