If they doubt your name
Say you are a proud African
Born and raised in this stench atmosphere
Under pothole roofs and damping hut
Down the bays and slums
But if they ask again
Tell them again
That you are a content black stone
Laying constantly by the stream
But if they demand more
Tell them, say! You are the guilt in court
The victim of isolated drought
From your masters ambitious wrath
And if they wants more
Tell them more, say!
You are the idlers in city ghettos
And the crowd in political rallies
That cast lot as vote on yourself
Tell them! Tell them again!
That you are the market places
Where they came with sham promises
Wanting help like ordinary beggars
Finally I say tell them
That you are the people
Who suffers more?
The needy that needs more
The deprived rural poor and
The proud Africans with pride
That seeks equal distribution of wealth NOW! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem