Our mothers are as widows
We are strangers in the land of our birth
Our actions incarcerate us as we buy our wood
Our water are being sold to us by foreigners

Our necks are persecuted by the power that be
When we shout to the white sky they preferred it to be dark
We labor without no rest in scornful shame
We are slaves to our brothers that leads us

We are ruled by servants of famine
who worship poverty, corruption and injustice
As their gods, they laud themselves in economic strive
They **** our woman and send our men into creeks and sambisa forests

They took our young men to grind as their thugs during election
And their years ripe with ashes of unemployment under their watch
The joy of our heart has stop and mourning is our drumbeat
Our diversity are plowed by foxes and our land are exploited by greed

Our heart faint in joy of silence
And our eyes are cover with division
our elders indoctrinate us with ethnicity and religion
While they work upon their pocket

Can't you see?
When will you washed your scotoma?
When will you stop my persecution to get enlightenment !
Why will a soul be enlighten and live in prison?

Why will you allowed to be lead as sheep to the slaughter?
Revolt o citizen! world citizen, for your liberation shall be fun as laughter
Drink the words of my lamentations as bread and butter
for your lamentation is soury and bitter

Written by
Martin Ijir