See, we are of the lost nation
Puppets to the western forces
We shout my yes sir boss to our leaders
Blind followers of the twisted so-called peace
Even after we’ve been broken into countless pieces.
See, this piece was not meant to carry so much hate and pain
But love can’t shine where bitterness and sorrow are buried.
It’s funny how Africa’s problem are always linked to colonialism, education, poverty, you name it Yet, never our own leaders, our brothers.
Who slice right through our spirits with our votes
Keep us in shackles of fake liberation
Our voices muted unless in praise of them
Or deal with the consequences
Get thrown behind bars to just listen and obey.
Have you ever questioned how the richest continent on planet earth is the poorest?
An irony, right?
Let me tell you about the brothers still clinging onto thrones
Who win us over with words spit out from their tainted tongues
Just to strip us naked, pierce into our skins with their sharp claws
and shamelessly hand us over to the white man.
Then pretend to rescue us just to get us arrested again
Before we can even breathe of our freedom.
I speak of these leaders who treat power as their personal investment
Live off of our taxes, hardly doing as taxed to
These leaders who planted inside us the zygote of inferiority.
Kenya has a story to tell
20% of her children die before the age of five,
The 80% who manage to survive have their own burden to bear
Malnutrition, poor health, little education
While the son of the president lives a life of luxury
Shouldered by the broken backs of the poor citizen
But, they dare not say a word
It could be the last they utter.
Angola has her story, too
A government turned into a family enterprise
The richest citizen borne from the loins of the first citizen
While millions scramble for scraps
Barely making it past each day.
The Gambia has her story too
A coast trying to get back her smile
Her people made history
Kicked out a dictator through the ballot
Ushered in a new era
But what’s really new, I ask?
An amplification of tribal differences
Refrains of misunderstood democracy.
A government that we hardly see and hear from
With flimsy attempts at soothing our open wounds with promises
Only to stab just right through the back
Again, what’s really new here
The constant reminders that they saved us
We’d better be grateful and bow to them
Thank them for liberating us
Forgetting we liberated ourselves
Again, through the ballot.
The storyline is similar for our sister nations,
They watch their leaders reap their natural resources
Beautify their own lives
With the flashy fabrics of corruption
Just to come back to the people and paint castles for them in the skies.
Africa had great leaders,
Liberated minds and achievers.
I speak of Mandela, Nkurumah, Nyerere, Sankara
Who sowed seeds we still reap
Gave birth to the likes of Johnson Sirleaf, Magufuli and Kassim Majaliwa
Who continue to wipe our tears and numb our wounds
See this is more than a fight between dictators and democrats
The just and the corrupt
This is about our freedom
Emancipation from the nurtured greed and lies
Failed promises and betrayal
Hypocrisy and denial
This is the everyday fight
So here is a call back home to the leaders,
Please pick this one call,
Do not send it to voicemail
We are tired of “hello, this is African leaders please leave a message”.
Or “the number you’re calling is currently busy. Please try again later”
We do not even have enough credit to make this call
So we do not intend to take too much of your time.
Your people have their knees bruised from all the crawling
We deserve way more.
Unlock the shackles and set us free
Shed the corruption and let us all enjoy equality
Liberate our Africa from your evil deeds and the influence of the white man
Tackle not your personal problems, but the nation’s flaws
Make Africa great again.
Fight the external forces and breed democracy
Be the servants you ought to be
And pick the damn call.