Unveiling Africa

She’s clothed in rags

In a wrinkled wretched linen

So helpless and hapless

The bystanders watched

With little or no concern

Some laughed or scorned

Some gazed indifferently

Others even took advantage

Of Her pure despondency

Poor fragile soul, poor Her

Who‘d save Her soul?

 

‘Twas a horrible sight

No drop of hope in sight

She’s utterly forgotten

By all and Her relatives

Who indulge in indulgence

In a better bright world

Perhaps at her expense

Poor fragile soul, poor Her

Who’d save Her soul?

 

A Virgin at Her prime

But lies in deep sorrow

And wrapped in thick obscurity

Could dear Heaven hear

And come for a rescue

Her overdue rescue

The broken hearts wept

Prayed and mourn for Her

 

Suddenly! There came

A ray of angelic light

That fiercely cuts through

Her shame and reproach

Unafraid of Her gloomy abode

Beyond every imagination

 

‘Twas a new breed

A new generation of hope

Yes! Her own brood

From Her own womb

Who emerged fearlessly

Like band of warriors

To re-write Her story

The story of Darling Mother

An unsung sweet song

Of the uncelebrated star

 

Surely, they did indeed

And unveiled Her glory

That was an amazing glory

Of an untold beauty

Long covered in dirt

And stinking dark veil

That long made Her

The only living outcast

No! The last outcast

 

Who could believe this story?

She’s like a phoenix

Risen from the ashes!

Yes! She risen indeed

In grandeur and splendour

 

All hail the Queen

The beautiful Empress

All hail Her majesty!

She’s awaken the music

So, let the beats go on!

 

(C) tony AJAH, 21.05.10