Africa’s veins carry her story
Of her quest for befitting glory
Of triumph in struggle,
Restoration from rubbles.
Her sun is a smile that lasts.
The words in the womb of her dust
Were misquoted, misappropriated or annihilated
But it’s our narrative that’s most important.
Knowledge is her unfailing heart
Pumping light into everything dark
To shine for this generation and the next.
If we should be birds, books are our nest.