I am not intimidated by your muscle of notes or coins;
Nor by your muscle of estates
I am not intimidated by your muscle in kitchen and table; in mouth or in pulse,
I am intimidated by that little Ikena Ogbonna, who is a dirty boy because he could not afford soap and water to clean up.
I am not intimidated by your muscle in four-walls, nor by your muscle in high-table; nor by your muscle in arsenal,
I am intimidated by that little Osaro Ogbeide; whose school uniform short is mark with two bull's eye in behind, and who has no one to look unto for a renew.
I am not intimidated by your muscle in holy grounds; nor by your muscle at points; I am intimidated by that little Wali Musa, who is hungry to see the four walls and tap from it, but cannot because no one cares.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem