Arise My Africa

I stepped on a stained piece of land

With a pungent smell of wet blood

I asked…

Is this land Africa?

Is this the land on which I was named an orphan?

Is this the land on which I was sold a slave?

And its people still slumber in an environment of doom?

                                                                         Oh how I wished…

Even a bird could whisper into my ears the name of that very land

But did I even need its inscriptions to read Africa?

When the blood I saw, was black?

When I heard the wails of their women and children in a native tongue

When the price of its humanity was still equivalent to the rattle of a gun?


Why must we destroy this beautiful Africa land?

I spent so many years on a foreign land

Where I was made to work so hard

Stoking their industrial fire and tilling their grounds

But I worked so hard

So they might not need another brother


that brother would stay with Mama Africa

and make her better

But I returned…

Only to see civil war grow

To see tears of our women and children unfold

The strength of the youth

being channeled into a weapon of self destruction

Whereas their fathers

mingle in drinking palm wine all day

All that the leaders hunger after

is how much power they gain

Even the breath of Mama Africa they will give away

Destroying the future of unborn generations today


Oh Africans!

Only if we will realize we are all the same

Only if I will start protecting coming generations from today

Hope and happiness will come our way

Never will it be too late

Until of course, from this positive course

We refrain.

Photo Courtesy of Steven Adusei Photography, Ghana

Profile photo of Tawiah Aboagye

Tawiah Aboagye

I'm cool and Poetic, Author of the play The African Within.

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