i was born with a scent of wild flowers in the air, the smell of wood-fires, and the cooking *** I was born to be proud of the blacked badge of my skin.
my first tears flowed from the sting of smoke from the pain of the thorns in my naked small feet.
How i hated , at first the long hours, herding cattles Shift_But i loved the hills And the river-when it gave meΒ Β fish!
i learned to listen To the song of birds To watch the colours of down and sunset I learn to love The land that gave me my own black badge The badge of Africa