A mother is a gentle hand,
That guides me when I cannot stand.
Her voice is soft, her heart is strong,
She lifts me up when things go wrong.

She works in silence, day by day,
Giving her love in every way.
No crown of gold, no robe of pride,
But endless care she cannot hide.

Her arms are home, her smile is light,
Her prayers guard me through the night.
If love had shape, if love had name,
A mother’s heart would be the same

She is a woman of power.
She is a woman of dignity and courage,
A dignity inherited from her leaders.

She works hard to gain her freedom,
But the further she goes,
The harder it becomes.

She says:
"I am afraid inside,
Yet powerful on the outside.
I do not care for money,
Power, or leadership.
What I care about is freedom."

In 1960, on October 1st,
Nigeria gained her independence.
Yet we, the women,
Are still in slavery.

Is it because we are silent?
Denied our rights?
Or simply because we are women,
The creation of Allah?

I have been silent for over 20 years.
Now, it is time to step out—
From slavery, denial of rights,
And gender inequality,
Into freedom.

Let us say NO to slavery.
Ku faɗi, mu yi magana!
(All of us must speak out!)

It can all end for good,
With the snap of a finger.