ANTHONY ANIGBATA

We are the people, the people of Africa
We are black and proud
We are mighty and strong
We are the giants in the green Sahara;
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dark clouds cover the blue sky
angry wind wangle so wild
men and women dart here and there
like running from a wild beast
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The bells I hear ringing
The yells so near to us
A year’s heading to the dust
Flowers filling the empty floors
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O, see how, many years can make a man,
A very strong man now a weakling
A handsome lad, now a clownish looking fellow.
His coiled black hair now grey like the sky
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WE HAVE GONE TO SCHOOL

We have gone to school
Took the tough path with bravery
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THE WIND SAILED BY YESTERDAY

The wind sailed by yesterday
At twilight ere the night
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MOSQUITOS

Little creature, little creature
You sing to me a sad song when
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Worry not always you being
Worry not of tomorrow and future things
Worry not of what you cannot change
But plan to face them as they come.
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Nothing is easy to start at first
But we all just need to start a thing
Burn our past and move ahead
To new things we dream and want.
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My love has no price. Not for selling, nor buying. I give it freely. Freely to whom this heart artlessly desires.

My heart has no price,
You need not climb tall a mountain,
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My Africa, my Africa
My Africa is the land of beauty,
The land of plenty primordial heritage
The land of many ancient myths
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A SEASON IN AFRICA

The cloud came
Hurrying from different directions,
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AN AFRICAN MARKET PLACE

Like in a chaos
The darting souls plod
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HARMATTAN

The rain has rain away
The sun on this shore
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THE MASQUERADE

Face of an animal, leg of a man
Body of a buffalo, hands of a kangaroo
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THE NEW YAM

Our yams have bore into earth
And their body swollen deep inside
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NIGHT

The night has come
The sky's a gloomy canopy
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Wake up Africa; wake up to this embellished world
Wake up you sons of the Sahara
And see how far the world has sojourned
While you sleep and snore in your tattered hammock.
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They were all taken away
Like cattles to the slaughter
In the day, not in the night
Snatched to Sambisa, a dreaded den
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Alas! You have treated me bad,
Returnin’ this way, where least
Thou are needed. Leaving and thereafter
Surfacin’ like swinging on a sway
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