That orange day;
I remember striking cords of violin with rain drops;
With natures gentle touch
And a picture of sunrise,
Alas!,my day has come and my rising was sure,
The savour of my onion men shall seek.


Long strides I took as I hurried ;
towards the train of my destiny,
To the future I promised my parents
Like the tower of babel;
I will build till it reaches the highest heavens,
This is my resolution, bless me mama!.


I remember that day in December,
I became a prey in the fowler's mouth
Beaten by a poisonous snake in my father's land,
Pains,pains ,Chains!,
By the river of Babylon ;I sat by crying out my heart,
Is this the Africa my grand mother sang about?,
Of warriors with fists of elephants.


Behold my headless body on the floor,
Lying helplessly in the river of black blood,
I could hear the warriors voice praying for me
For the Africa of my dream,
That our broken bones be made whole
And they said ;
We won't stop praying until something happens.