Long ago,
In an inglorious pages of history
The yoke of our fathers
Never wing off my memory.
In days of yore
The halcyon of blacks
African coast welcomed strange colour.
Their voyage we thought awhile
Left gory figures on our minds.
Our forebears;their slaves
Our pains ;their wealth
Souls in plantations; songs of sorrow
Our spirit sings.
The nightmare is over
African afar!
Heavenward your homelaqnd calls
Oh, that I see the day
Seems like balm on my soul.