They called him "ikwerekwere'
Because He spoke a foreign language
And many local men were there
When he died in anguish
Was it the colour of his skin?
Were not his killers the same colour as him?
No, his only sin
Was his origin
He came looking for a better land
Filled with milk and honey
Where opportunities are like the sea sand
Allured by the prospect of better money
My Africans I ask
Is it colour or is it greed?
We can no longer hide behind the mask
And make excuses for such a deed
Was it not God who created us all?
He never made the borders that separate us
Was it not Him who made us all Africans?
One day I hope these borders will fall
There are no borders in the eyes of the Father
Neither is there any better clan
Jesus said to hate is to murder your brother
He told us to love our fellow man
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem