After my mother
Paid dearly for the golds
Stolen from her
So I can be free
So you can be free
At that,
Not you, nor I
Can do without Anini
Who crossed the seven seas
To rob my dear mother
Of golds and of diamonds
Of sons and of daughters
Of eagles and of doves
Through the Iyamu in the house
And takes the heads of her lions
And vipers
Through fire and broken bottles
The Anini was sent to return.
My brother's hands in victory raised
But again,
Upon daybreak,
Neither I, nor you can do with
The pushed away Anini.
We are at left in politics
At left in economy
At left in warfare
And we need a hand
Second coming!
Anini is come back
Dictating to us
As it were in the morning
I hear my mother wail
What do I do now
All I have, I must sell out
If I must stand
But then,
I am falling
Anini presses me
I am in need of Lumuba
In need of Mandela
In need of Fela
In need of Sankara
I must be them
To help mother out
To once again,
On her face, see a smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem