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Even out of history’s dark and
Nights of Tsunami strikes
We still lifted our touches
Sweat-drenched faces as we wore. Yet
Cling—ing to hopes of new dawn
We are sons; we are daughters of Africa
We are born black-strong
Chains enslaved our hands
And whips did scar our backs
We came out even stronger
Burnt meadow does not sit down
Naked all year. In due time,
Blossoms of lilies always laze
We are Africans—the royalties of the earth
Time will die before us
Yes, Africa shall rise again
Hours of darkness does not linger infinity
The sun does not allow him
A seed does not sleep in dust forever
It stands into a full tree
Out of scalds of our battered past
Drizzles of healing will flow
Even from the ruinous now
Shall re-emerge a dream to re-build
We will create Africa
Night’s thunderous roaring
Had never scared us
We trace our way by its lightenings
The sun does not harm our skins
We were born by him
See! We shall live on
We, the broods of a new dawn
A promise long hidden
In the darkest womb of our gone ancestors
That is what we are—Africans
When you see an African
You have seen a dream
From past sleeping histories
Born to utter the course of the future
Rising slowly like waking dawn
                 By Ugwu Hilary Ike
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