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An open letter to Nkrumah, Mandela & co

I passed by and saw an ugly sight:

The ones whose names we chanted in the streets

Sitting on Chinese chairs in the government house

Eating our dreams like pounded yam

For now 

For now we are the forgotten ones

Whose names are alien to their lips

Until our thumbs are crucial to their win

They will come again

In due season, they will come again

With their mouths drooling of empty promises

To ride on us like donkeys to victory 

The things our eyes have seen our mouths cannot say

Alas! We have been deceived

In broad daylight, without guns

Our own have robbed us of a glowing future

Come, freedom fighters

Come back and see the anguish

That has become of the nations you traded your lives for

Come, come, come and see the ruins of your toil

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