Why did did we allow a mere
whistle of the birds out sound
the war cry of odumegwu ojukwu?
Way did we allow our heart to be
a river? a divided river at that,
why not the vast and mighty heart
of an ocean?
Why did we allow our hunger for
freedom dim as a eye living it
fantasy of sleep?
Oh! oh! my Biafra i see thee through
the rising sun, the sun that will set
towards the east and dim towards the
north.
Wake up Biafrans and reclaim your
rising sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
u carry the pain many carry... i carry mine...we all carry ours. strong and realistic...