Land of bountiful grains and manifold resources, gravely marred by greed and corruption;
Come I neither with rumba and tambourine, nor with the harp of David the "Psalmist", to sing songs of praises to you.
Rather in tears, grievous tears, I come to lament your plight,
O field captain of African redemption, whose children know no peace at home, nor pleasure abroad.
Gold and diamond adorn your landscape,
Yet, dusty, muddy roads mark your highways.
Hundreds of ships fly your flag,
But, not a single canoe you own to ply your coast.
Your iron ore and timbers built distant cities,
While rusty zinc shacks line your streets.
You inhabit the richest tropical land of sub-Sahara Africa,
Yet, rice, your staple food you import.
You boast of age, but nothing worthy to match.
Just tip-toe and see your African neighbors,
Nations you far surpass in age, oh, home of Kollie, Smith and Gaye.
As your 163rd Independence Anniversary draws nigh,
O glorious land of liberty,
Let me swallow my grief and celebrate.
© 2010 by The Perspective
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