For the roaming hopeless african son, I sing.
Fearless; we will walk up hope’s mountain hand in hand,
Trusting that the rain will fall again.
Though today’s skies may bear no stars
And it seems tomorrow has already got ugly scars,
Oh africa’s son ! The morning dew will come,
And you will learn to dance again.
I keep hearing the faint echoes of you, saying :
Bring me love,I’ll be in the market,
Adorn me the rose flower not the plant.
Buy me just a smile,
And I promise to grin again.
The street gave birth to no one,
We made her a mother.
My valentine will be on the street,
Teaching the poor how to laugh.
Written by: Adeyemi Adesiyan
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.