Remains in our baked clay pot
After we canoed past the northern bridge
To anchor at the western port
Upon its shores and shopping malls
There, where the eve of Adam began its tour
In answer to a clarion call,
Bred the first of babylon’s fall
The maiden pride of “ankara”
Was tossed away like a cold ball of “akara”
And the beauteous name “gele”
Sounded to them like a rust fed “ogene”
The palm fruit milked groundnut oil
and “eba” wrapped in golden moi moi foil
As culture became costumes
And the atmosphere filled with blackberry fragranced perfumes
Bikini was given to every pikin
As gifts from the royal palace of the king
For in their bid to chameleon the African way,
This was the dowry they had to pay
Even the gods traded knowledge
To acquire a bottle of schapps
And thus fell to the sword edge
Of folly claps and slaps
Kai!! This oyinbo pipul sabi something well well
As dem kari kolture troway for water well
And we sidon dey look as dem take wole us
But na our choici, abi dem do am witi force??
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