Africa Poem by Joseph Cimanuka

The black world, Africa, the black land,
Where masculinity and femininity lie;
With brilliant minds springing all over your surface,
And a vast, fertile soil of your own,
Yet your offspring are starving to death,
Unable to draw food from your womb.

O Africa, why are you swooning before a fiend,
Unable to decide your own future;
Depending on your neighbors to write your fate,
Kneeling and bowing for a piece of bread,
While you were born to lead your people in your own land,
Denying your place on the face of the earth.

This is the time to sow, using your brains;
To be able to decide your own future,
Writing your fate with your own pen and ink.
Stop kneeling and bowing for a piece of bread,
And know that you were born to lead your people,
Knowing your place on the face of the earth.