Sep 20
Before the world called us black,
We were bronze, shining in royal grace.
We were complete, nothing we lack.
Fly with me now, through poetic space,
To a land where legends never die,
Where every stone tells a tale,
And bronze plaques are tongues of ancestors,
Still speaking, still loud, still real.
We built walls without cement, but with resolve,
No empire walked through without bowing first.
We lived in a Utopia, before they came,
Thieves of time, looters of sacred flame.
Not all white‑looking birds are eagles,
Ask the ones who plundered our treasures.
But the bronze whispered till the world listened.
We, the children of the soil, rise again.
Not just children of history, we are history itself.
So when you speak of kingdoms…
Whisper Benin with respect.
We were bronze, shining in royal grace.
We were complete, nothing we lack.
Fly with me now, through poetic space,
To a land where legends never die,
Where every stone tells a tale,
And bronze plaques are tongues of ancestors,
Still speaking, still loud, still real.
We built walls without cement, but with resolve,
No empire walked through without bowing first.
We lived in a Utopia, before they came,
Thieves of time, looters of sacred flame.
Not all white‑looking birds are eagles,
Ask the ones who plundered our treasures.
But the bronze whispered till the world listened.
We, the children of the soil, rise again.
Not just children of history, we are history itself.
So when you speak of kingdoms…
Whisper Benin with respect.
"Odes to the Great Benin People" is a poetic tribute to the rich heritage, resilience, and glory of the Edo people — both past and present. It honors the ancient Benin Kingdom, whose legacy still echoes through its art, architecture, and ancestry. Each line carries the voice of bronze, stone, and soil — mediums through which our ancestors continue to speak.
This ode is not just for those who once ruled with wisdom and walked with spirits, but also for we, their descendants, who carry their pride, pain, and power in our veins. It reminds the world that Benin was never defined by colonial shadows but by its own brilliance long before foreign footprints.
The poem calls for remembrance, respect, and the revival of cultural pride — because we are not just children of history, we are history itself.
This ode is not just for those who once ruled with wisdom and walked with spirits, but also for we, their descendants, who carry their pride, pain, and power in our veins. It reminds the world that Benin was never defined by colonial shadows but by its own brilliance long before foreign footprints.
The poem calls for remembrance, respect, and the revival of cultural pride — because we are not just children of history, we are history itself.
