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 me 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