African Poems

22/08/2023

Abraham Ọlátúbọ̀sún Oládàpọ̀ is a Yorùbá poet, playwright and music producer whose prowess as a performer has earned him the praise name of ‘Odídẹrẹ́ Ayékòótọ́’ (‘The Loquacious Parrot’).

Born in 1943 in the city of Ìbàdàn (the capital of Ọyọ State, in Nigeria), Oládàpọ̀ initially pursued a career in teaching. It was while training as a teacher that he won praise for his chanting of Ìjálá poetry at a cultural festival.

In 1977 Oládàpọ̀ founded Ọlátúbọ̀sún Records to seek out, produce and promote traditional poets from across the Yorùbá country. Harshly critical of what he terms the ‘sycophants and scavenger poets’ who merely praise their audience, the record label has produced tracks by some of the finest Yorùbá poets.

I am delighted to publish here a translation of a track from the Ọlátúbọ̀sún Records archives, a performance by Ọlátúbọ̀sún Oládàpọ̀ himself that illustrates the flair and proficiency of ‘The Loquacious Parrot’.

Here the poet advises that the individual who aims to succeed in life must become ‘deaf and fortified’ so as to avoid petty distractions and the criticism of nay-sayers.

https://youtu.be/9nUgkXzvgcA

Odídẹrẹ́ Ayékòótọ́
You are very much welcome,
The one whose name is worth money and is not known for evil,
It is the evil one that breaks Kolanut and it faces downwards,
The deceitful one breaks Kolanut and it brings no good tidings,
Ayékòótọ́ has broken its own Kolanut, life has come to all!
If one is destined to be greater than the enemy, one’s joy is always full to the brim,
The pot that wishes to eat pepper stew will first endure a scalded bottom.
Good things come only after great labor or suffering.
He who wants to swim across this river called life in peace
He will encounter a lot of trouble, trauma and obstacles
But then, amidst the thorns and tears in this field called life,
One can still be known for excellence.
He who wants to live long, who wants to leave good marks after him when he finally leaves this world,
He must be deaf and fortified!
It is only the deaf and fortified that can be successful in this life,
He who sees, ignore and looks away is the one that can be known for success,
Why would the truth speaking fellow fall in love with the deceitful?
How will the fortunate be attracted to the unfortunate, please explain to me
If you are not deaf and fortified, you will just die off like a candle,
They cannot be appeased, nothing moves them ever!
If you want to achieve anything in this life, you must learn to look away,
Because of the people planning for you to fall, you should stuff wool into your ears and pretend you cannot hear them
Because of you pay attention to their taunts and drama, they will not let you be,
They are full of impossibilities, they will not let the one who wants to make it possible achieve his aim,
Their only song is “It is not achievable”, making life unbearable for the one who wants to achieve the unachievable,
And for them
Rather than leave the yam beans uneaten, they as rats will scatter them without batting an eyelid.
If they cannot have access to one’s property, they would rather destroy it than permit others to have access.
Stuff wool into your ears and pretend you cannot hear them
A lot of people would have loved to excel in this world but they left unrecognized
They listened to the bickering and talks going on in the world around them,
They were unsure of their lines not minding the ones they were dealing with and they lost concentration
It is only the fortified that can stop and look around,
If the coward tries it, he will be washed away like the sand by the seashore,
If the faint tries it, that is the end of his journey.
The doubtful who tries it fades away just like that
It is only the deaf and fortified that can be successful in this life,
Trouble and ridicule lies in wait for the thumb that dares to be different
Stuff wool into your ears and pretend you cannot hear them
Have you seen a successful person that the world has not attempted to pull down?
Or are you not aware that a culprit always wants company?
They have lost it all so seeing you successful is a “NO” for them
Stuff wool into your ears and pretend you cannot hear them
Let them talk, let them announce
“We are driven by envy of them” is a bad case to make;
A quarrel spawned by jealousy is not easy to settle.
It is only the deaf and fortified that can be successful in this life
The scorners, the haters, the abusers – let them say!
He who want to succeed excellently wouldn’t listen to what the world has to stay,
Is it by being rich, learned, good, the tech savvy and efficient?
You think you will be exempted from all that was done to the ones that have gone before you?
As you are planning to be better and move forward, they are doing everything possible to pull you back,
Leave me to my own please, I did not disturb you when you were at yours,
Misunderstanding brings a lot of talks, Odídẹrẹ́ Ayékòótọ́ has said money should not be mocked around it anymore
Money, money, we are all looking for money.
He said if you want to give him money, it should not be obvious to the prying eyes of the world,
If you want to give him gifts, don’t do it to make other sad,
Knowing fully well that when everyone has with the exception of one, that one feels hurt and left out
A lot of people going through stuff observes the Poet during functions.
And Odídẹrẹ́ will not want anyone to misbehave because of him,
Give Ayékòótọ́ gifts but don’t make fun of him was what I said and it was misinterpreted
Dance with the praise singer at functions but give him big gifts in secret
All singers are known to get gifts all over the world,
It is the evil doers that go about plotting evil that wants to erase the Yorùbá culture
The frogs who don’t know the way to the pond but pretend to be all knowing,
The set of people who have lost all morals because of what they can get,
They want to turn Ayékòótọ́ to the leaders of those who sing for gains only
And it is just that the world detests the truth, the poet is not afraid to talk,
They said it is cultural, your fathers gave you tribal marks but you have refused to use blade on the faces of their children,
It is cultural, your fathers made human sacrifices but you have refused to offer your children as sacrifices,
It is cultural, your fathers slept inside sheds and huts, why are you sleeping under iron corrugated sheets?
I am saying something else and you have completely misunderstood me,
Is one’s culture meant for bragging? If an act is termed bad, you say it is for the wealthy
Is the wealthy meant to be reckless? This is a question that should be answered.
Lets discuss, lets agree, lets act upon it
He who is in prison is not privy to who is on his side. The Saviour may actually be the evil doer.
Most assuredly, the truth will always prevail sooner or later because lies don’t last,
One struggles to save the dog from death and it is hell bent on being killed for irrelevancies,
One struggles to save the chicken from certain death, and it complains that one is preventing it from foraging at the dump,
We are trying to make the singer more delectable and advanced so he is not looked down on any longer when he opens his mouth at a function,
When they are giving us monetary gifts, they should stop spraying it on our foreheads
Or why buy a cloth worth one hundred and forty naira and show it off to a thousand and four hundred people, what value is in it again for the gifted?
Ride on and speak on Odídẹrẹ́ Ayékòótọ́, God hasn’t commanded you to keep mute,
I repeat, why buy a cloth worth one hundred and forty naira and show it off to a thousand and four hundred people, what value is in it again for the gifted?
It is just a suggestion at a function from me Odídẹrẹ́ It is not a decree,
Sure you heard when Jesus Christ the Saviour talked about it that when you bless the right hand, don’t make it obvious to the left
And so I became deaf and fortified thus ignoring them… if you peddle talks about me because of this, I am walking the path of one of the prophets that has passed on,
Your evil plots and patterns cannot work against the one that is being backed by his creator,
The truth arrives at the market but finds no buyer; it is with ready cash, though, that people buy falsehood.
People appreciate falsehood more than truthfulness,
But then, just like the yam sticks with kókóró, and as ọkà sticks with yàngbè, we are not deaf and fortified.
Just like the Palm wine belongs to the tribe of masqurades, the poet will not keep quiet out of fear.
Musicians in the land, may I have your attention?
Look at me once again, I am not a bastard, I am just concerned about the wellbeing of we vocalists.
When I came to ask the question again: why is it that our lyrics and beats do not stand the test of time any longer like before?
Ha, I also ask if the music written by the previous people is really becoming extinct?
Not knowing that musicians of old sang the songs that are just in the spur of the moment and not to last forever for recording purposes,
Why do abusive songs, swear words and the likes last forever?
We all listen to the songs of modern day artists all over the world.
Songs of hatred and belittlement are not known to be part of the Yoruba folklore from inception
An imbecile makes an entertaining spectacle but not as one’s own child
One might be tolerant of simplicity or irresponsibility in other people but not in one’s own relatives.
What happened to the old songs that people used to love?
As today’s artists sing and put them out so we can also sing meaningful songs that can be our pride overseas,
He who is in prison is not privy to who is on his side. The Saviour may actually be the evil doer.
Most assuredly, the truth will always prevail sooner or later because lies don’t last,
Òwíwí is the reason you cannot speak against me, Àjìjà is the reason you cannot fight me.
What will be will be, let everyone mind their businesses.
The left hand is not disturbing the left and vice versa, evrryone has their own fair share of happenstances.
Just like the Irèsé farm, i am talking about myself at the moment not someone else’s matter.
The poet can never keep quiet out of fear.
At the end of everything, whatever is mine cannot belong to somebody else, let me face my own please, allow me to face my own.
Let individual songs advertise them. He who can sing praises of the living should go ahead and do so
Odídẹrẹ́ Ayékòótọ́ is hammering his point that it is after death men become immortalized, there is nothing fanciful about men before then,
No one is hindering the other, I am just speaking as to what I have been called to do.
The labour of our heroes past should not be in vain.
I am saying what I am saying as the Almighty has not forbidden me,
Oníkòyí Odídẹrẹ́ cannot be tired of talking, it is false news that travels for twenty years and the truth catches up with it in one day.
The just will not die in the place of the wicked and that is why I said that:
It is the evil one that breaks Kolanut and it faces downwards,
The deceitful one breaks Kolanut and it brings no good tidings,
Ayékòótọ́ has broken its own Kolanut, life has come to all!
If one is destined to be greater than the enemy, one’s joy is always full to the brim,
And, a lot of people are routing for others downfall
All poets, lyricists and singers in this land will always move forward ever backward never,
Ponder on the words Odídẹrẹ́ has said.
Odídẹrẹ́ Ayékòótọ́ is going back to base,
The one whose name is worth money and is not known for evil.

In this album, Tubosun Oladapo defends his craft against popular culture and the then (and now) prevalent act of spraying artists with money on stage. Buy th...

17/08/2023

The following children’s song was recorded in June 1958 at Kawere School in Dowa, a district in the Central Region of Malawi. Bilimankhwe is the name of a chameleon and in the song the children ask him why his eyes are swollen. Bilimnakhwe replies that he has been mourning the deaths of his kinsfolk and that it is inappropriate for the children to be laughing when there is a funeral at his home.

Then, Bilimankhwe goes further to state that he will no longer stay in the village as it has been ravaged by death. He informs the children that he will leave the village and let others rebuild it.

My thanks to Waliko Makhala of the Malawi Broadcasting Corporation for the translation that follows.

Bilimankhwe,
Why are your eyes so swollen?
There is death in our home, don’t you children laugh at me
Look, my home is bare, bare, bare.

Bilimankhwe,
Why are your eyes so swollen?
There is death in our home, don’t you children laugh at me
Look, my home it is bare, bare, bare.

I will leave this village
Let others build this village
I will leave this village
Look at my home it is bare, bare, bare.

The boys of Kawere School at Kawere, Dowa District, Central Nyasaland performing a party song with clapping. Recorded in Dowa District on on 3 June 1958. HT: ‘Bilimankhwe! Bilimankhwe maso adatupa ni

16/08/2023

I am very grateful to the team at Afropop Worldwide to have had the opportunity to co-produce a program for their show. I’ve spent many hours over the years listening to their programs and it has been a pleasure to be able to work with them.

“Saving the Malawi Tapes” tells the story of how the old reel to reel tapes that lay in disarray inside the Malawi Broadcasting Corporation were digitised.

This is thanks to the collaboration of Malawian musician, producer and presenter of radio and TV shows, Waliko Makhala and the Norwegian radio journalist and music producer, Sigbjørn Nedland.

Listeners will also hear more about the work AfricanPoems is doing to share these musical and poetic treasures with a wider audience.

The Malawi Broadcasting Corporation recorded a goldmine of local music in the 1960s and 70s, but the tapes were neglected and close to ruined when broadcaster Waliko Makhala raised the alarm. With hel

19/07/2022

The following poem, ‘Macaan iyo Qadhaadh’ or “Bitter and Sweet”, was composed by the legendary Somali poet and a scholar, Axmed Ismaciil Diriye Qaasim. Written to give the people some idea of his character when he moved to the town of Oodweyne in northern Somalia in the mid-1960’s, the poem became popular as a treatise on the complexities and contradictions of human nature.

Here the poem is set to music and sung by Somali singer Omar Dhuule. A translation of the lyrics into English follows:

Consider the aloe – how bitter is its taste!
Yet sometimes there wells up a sap so sweet
That it seems like honey in your mouth.
Side by side the sweet and bitter run
Just as they do, my friends, in me,
As I switch from sweet to bitter
And back to sweet again.
My two hands, right and left, are twins.
One twin gives food to strangers and to guests,
It sustains the weak and guides them.
But the other is a slashing, cutting knife –
As sharp to the taste as myrrh,
As bitter as the aloe.
Do not suppose I am the kind of man
Who walks along one path, and that path only.
I go one way, and seem a reasonable man,
I provoke no one, I have the best of natures –
I go another, and I’m obstinate and bold,
Striking out at others without cause.
Sometimes I seem a learned man of God
Who retreats in ascetic zeal to a seclude sanctuary –
I turn again and I’m a crazy libertine,
Sneakily snatching whatever I can get.
I am counted as one of the elders of the clan,
Esteemed for my wisdom, tact and skill in argument,
But within me there dwells a mere townee, too –
A no-good layabout he is, at that.
I’m a man whose gullet will allow no passage
For food that believers are forbidden to eat,
And yet I’m a pernicious, hardened thief –
The property of even the Prophet himself
Would not be safe from me.
I have my place among the holy saints,
I am one of the foremost of their leaders,
But at times I hold high rank in Satan’s retinue,
And then my lords and masters are the jinns.
It’s no good trying to weigh me up –
I can’t be balanced on a pair of scales.
From this day to that my very colour changes –
Nay, I’m a man whose aspect alters
As morning turns to evening
And back once more to morning.
Muslims and infidels – I know their minds
And understand them through and through.
“He’s ours!” the angels of Hell proclaim of me
“No, ours!” the angels of Heaven protest.
I have, then, all these striking qualities
Which no one can ignore –
But who can really know my mind?
Only a grey-head who has lived for many days
And learned to measure what men are worth.
And now, my friends, each man of you –
If either of the paths I follow
Takes your fancy and delights your heart,
Or even if you cannot bear to lose
The entertainment I provide,
Then come to me along the path –
You’re free to make a choice!

18/07/2022

The islands of the Zanzibar Archipelago have been called the “Spice Islands” by traders due to the cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, and black pepper that flourish there. Beekeeping has been encouraged in recent decades as the honey takes on the complex flavor of the mangrove, fruit, and spice trees that Zanzibar is famed for.

Most bees produce honey from the sugary secretions of plants (floral nectar), but there are some bees that feed on decaying animal flesh, such as monkey carcasses. They produce a honey-like substance which is not derived from nectar, but rather from protein-rich secretions of the bees’ hypopharyngeal glands. This honey-resembling substance described as having an intense, smokey, and salty, or uniquely sweet flavour. This may have led to the Swahili proverb “Huyui kilacho nyuki, asali hungeiramba” — “You do not know what the bees eat. If you did, you would not lick up the honey”.

In the following song by taarab singers Siti Muharam and Mohamed Issa Matona of Zanzibar, the artists playfully describe their shock and revulsion at discovering that some honey is made in this way. The lyrics contrast how the rotten, putrefying carcasses of monkeys can be transformed into a delightful delicacy that humans will fight over.

A translation of the lyrics from Swahili to English follows:

Bee, you make me sad
Truth I tell you.

The honey that you produce
It delights us
However, you produce this
From that which has rotted.

Had I known, had I known, had I known
I wouldn’t have eaten it.

I ask the sheikhs as well as the scholars
Please tell, is this permitted?
Lest I kick it, lest I kick it, lest I kick it
And reduce its value.

Bee you go to the forest
To scavage at the carcasses.

Even the carcasses of the monkeys,
Bees will take over
And carry in their mouths
Honey to make.

If you see it in the store, If you see it in the store,
When you go to the store, we humans will fight for it.

Yet there are so many things in this world,
That when they rot become unfit for human consumption.

And there are those illicit spices that come from oversees and are so rare
If you consume them others will condemn you
People will denounce and convict you.

So why does this honey, this honey why, this honey why,
Why do you have this legitimacy?

(Interlude)

The sweetness of honey
Truly is immeasurable

Sweeter than a meal of rice
Or meat from the camel
I salute God for it
and for permitting it.

If you partake, do so in moderation, do so sparingly
Else, it may put you to sleep.

Provided to YouTube by K7 Records GmbHNyuki · Siti MuharamSiti of Unguja (Romance Revolution on Zanzibar)℗ On The CornerReleased on: 2020-06-05Music Publish...

23/03/2022

Fatoumata Diawara was born in the Ivory Coast to Malian parents, but grew up in Bamako in Mali. Kokòrò (“Our Heritage” or “Our Traditions”) is a song standing in defence of the cultural heritage of Mali.

A translation of the lyrics from Bambara to English follows:

Let’s not turn our backs to our traditions
Let’s embrace them, be proud of them
Let’s not abandon our traditions
We need to welcome them, like a miracle
Let’s not turn our backs on them.

They want to destroy our traditional values
Because we are Africans
We have lost all our cultural references
Because they see us as slaves
Our ancestors have abandoned us
They want to kill our traditions
Because we are Africans
Our good ways are becoming obsolete.

I bow before our ancestral traditions, mother
I pray to the spirits of our ancestors
I bow before our ancestral traditions.

Why are we not proud of what we are?
We try to look like Europeans, by bleaching our skin
We try to please the Chinese and sell off all of our resources to them
We think that being Muslim means to adopt Middle Eastern dress code
We want to look like Indians by applying their bindi to our forehead
Who will perpetuate Sunjata’s heritage?
I, Diawara Fanta proudly stand up, raise my hand
And vow to carry on the ancestral heritage
Who will live the African way of life in our stead?
We have lost all our cultural references
Copying european culture instead
If we do not respect ourselves
No one else will ever respect us.

Why are we not proud of who we are?
God, we just do not love ourselves enough!
We don’t, we don’t, we just don’t
Why are we not proud of who we are?

I bow before them
By God, I do, Tanba
I bow before them
By God, I do, Tanba
I bow before our ancestral traditions
By God, I do, Tanba
Bow before Tanba
By God, I do, Tanba
By God, I do, Tanba
By God, I do, Tanba
Bow before Tanba.

Our traditions, our heritage
Bow before Tanba.

Listen Fenfo : https://fatoumatadiawara.lnk.to/fenfoON TOUR : https://fatoumatadiawara.lnk.to/TrianonVideoclip Director: legendemaliFollow her :http://www...

22/03/2022

Yorùbá poet Lanrewaju Adepọju performed and recorded Ìlú le! (‘Hard Times!’) in 1980. At the time Nigeria was transitioning from the miltary junta of Olúṣẹ́gun Ọbásanjọ́ to the elected government of Shehu Shagari. This new civilian government, known as the Second Nigerian Republic, was plagued by allegations of corruption and accusations of administrative incompetence. This, coupled with a decline in world oil prices, and a deterioration in the national finances, led to the regime becoming deeply unpopular with citizens.

A self-taught poet, playwright, author and social crusader based in Ibadan, Lanrewaju Adepọju was sought out by local politicians and prominent figures who hoped to use his influence to sell their policies and achievements to the public. However, his most famous political interventions were his interrogations of successive administrations in Nigeria on policies and programs he considered unjust. The medium he used for these often scathing denunciations was the poetry genre that he modernised and popularised called ewì.

While ewì poetry draws upon the older traditions of Yorùbá oral poetry such as ìjálá, rárà, ese ifá, oríkì, èfè, and others, it is a modern invention, delivered through written word as well as live and recorded performances, reflecting a more contemporary, individualised form of self-expression.

Like the traditional Yorùbá oral poets, the akéwì (ewì poets) act as the voice of their society, calling out wrong-doing and corruption amongst authority figures on the part of the community that they serve.

The translation that follows is by Professor Oyèníyì Okùnoyè:

Hard times!
As if by a deluge of evil
Everyone is in trouble
And everyone now cherishes common ninepence!
Humanity groans under financial crisis!
The yam flour measure once sold for one Naira
Now sells for six!
This is real crisis!
The problem intended for the ram now affects the goat
Life has indeed turned sour
The whole land is in discomfort!
We are confused. See which way the world has turned
So this is the trick being hatched sometime ago
Which the people never took notice of.
The deceivers locked up money
And the populace is cash-strapped
We shall at last discover their intent;
Evil men who embezzled our money
And made life unbearable
Are preparing the ground for their shame
And would end up disgracefully.
The rogues conspired
And shared money
Doing incalculable harm to the Naira
And cast everyone into a pit
Those monsters, parasites all
Upturned state coffers
Before leaving!
Fully fed
They are not bothered that you and I are starving;
They do not care
Even as the masses groan in want;
The gluttonous, evil creatures in power
Emptied the treasury
And the whole land is in trouble!
Hard times!
Everyone is complaining
The people are starved of money
Those who have yam flour lack meat
Only the rich can afford to buy fish
Only VIPs can have access to tomatoes!
Terrible things are happening!
Many traders have gone out of petty business
Those with two dresses are selling one for food!
And life has become so difficult that
It is hard to describe
Prices of all goods have skyrocketed
And there is even no money to buy whatever is available.
The ripe bananas have been eaten
Only unripe ones are left for the people!
Having embezzled all the money
They then passed unbearable legislation
So as to make life very hard!
Those who should have been struck dead by Ṣàngó’s lightning
Still live with us in cities!
Those who should be auctioned to purchase a lamp
Are still being admired in the thick of night;
Have you ever seen such insult
Those who having consumed the real meat
Left only the bones for us to eat!
We once complained about European exploiters
Walai-talai! Theirs is worse!
Those who heartlessly extort the poor
Reckless gluttons
Shameless and mean people
Their embezzlement has left the land in agony!
Poverty like a sickness afflicts the people!
How do we manage this crisis?
All the people everywhere are grumbling
That all is not well
At Eid-el-Kabir there were no rams to slaughter!
Christians celebrated
Christmas in lack
And the New Year dawned with no remarkable change!
Hard times!
All imports that once flowed in en masse
have since been banned
So that life would be much harder
And so life became very tough!
They rarely care
Placing hurdles in people’s economic paths
Even the rich could find no goods to buy.
All the banned imported goods
Find their way in illegally
Their wives go about flaunting
the very clothes that are banned from importation
Turning the masses into desperate smugglers
They were taught robbery!
They warned all banks
Not to grant loans anymore
To make life much tougher
Life indeed became tougher!
We can only plead with the king above (9)
To help us ease the situation.
Many contractors
Have not been paid for jobs done for government
Money is really scarce
These deceivers
Have turned many who were rich into paupers.
Hard times!
They frustrated traders in general
And hindered all from sustaining themselves!
The monkey has landed and immediately sped off
Let’s all pray in earnest!
Indeed people have embezzled in this country!
We made a rogue our treasurer
And assumed he would not squander money;
What exactly are we saying?
Why won’t there be hardship in the land?
The cooking pot never dreamt of tasting pepper
Little wonder it emits hot sweats when on fire!
What many do not earn in a year
Is what they take on a single day
They live in palatial mansions
Whatever they decree is law
They eat good food
But offer the masses meals of agony
Asking us to be content with our destiny.
The best they could think of the other time
Was to construct bad roads
And as they paid contractors their legitimate due
They would still share the money in equal proportions
And when the contractors are not paid in full
They make substandard roads.
They often in their wickedness
Construct houses that are unfit for habitation
So as to ease embezzlement
They had squandered Petrodollars
Before we woke up from slumber
They are indeed not different from highway robbers!
We least expected they would cheat us
So all the poor offered their heads as anvils
Upon which they then smashed coconuts
They were busy stealing our money
And people were thanking them for it!
Not knowing that in the end
Children of the poor would suffer for it.
Things had started to get unbearable
Before we realized khaki’s difference from leather
The inferno had already got out of hand
Before we started searching for water
And the sheep had eaten the maize flour
Before we started scaring the sheep!
What with my past poem, depicting the situation?
Do you now see what has happened?
Are we not all affected?
They betrayed the confidence of both male and female
We are now helpless!
The black ant having died,
left behind a pungent odour
Prayer remains the only antidote!
But we do know of some among them
Who hate fraudulent practices
They were in charge of the Naira
But refused to steal
It was risky for them to raise any alarm
They dared not speak at meetings
They were the minority in the council.
“Whatever my friend is eating I will eat with him”
Does not apply in the case of debts
Our best bet is to silently watch events
Those responsible for this state of affairs
Will be in trouble
They have committed many crimes!
Nemesis will at last catch up with them
They’re all due for a dance of vengeance
So people can deal with them as with their likes
Whenever a bushfire does occur
The grass-soot quite readily betrays it
Let’s just be patient.
They’ll all live to regret it
And suffer unmanageable disgrace
As they have messed up before their in-law!
They’ve smeared their heads with dog faeces!
They’ve asked for insult from the masses
Soiling their feet with devil’s dung!
We hear they airlifted money abroad
And the secret burst open
They thought the people were ignorant of events
You may continue to destabilize the land
The Almighty would restore it at last
The rain of vengeance is threatening.
Don’t you know that the secret of a pregnant school girl
Who conceals her state beneath the belt
Will soon be revealed:
The stomach must protrude
A matter not that urgent demands patience.
You gluttons who siphoned our money
Make haste!
You did this much
Thinking you would not be caught?
When you wake up in the morning
You may have a ritual bath
Perhaps it’s possible to wash clothes with beetle’s foam
Or perhaps you know of one that pounds yam in woodpecker’s mortar
And uses crab-oil to cook his soup.
We do hear
And hear properly
Every issue has its cause
The issue on hand is not one to be silent about
People have been financially stressed, and the country is not at peace
They are crying out, they feel concerned
You elders and wise ones, deliberate over this issue.
We call on the government
Not to forget the citizenry at large;
So that diligent workers don’t live like idlers;
Or what about those workers now being retrenched?
Should they live in hunger?
Federal Government, release money!
People are crying, do not allow things to get out of hand
Further delay may mean a worse situation
It portends grave danger.
The ban on imports may adversely affect Nigeria.
Repeal inconsiderate decrees
That imports may flow into the country
People earn their living by buying and selling
Only the callous debar people from making wealth
So unban the importation of goods.
We identify a king by the character of his reign;
Be it peace or anguish
Only their respective histories would differ;
Whatever one makes of one’s country
Cannot escape the attention of history.
Where exactly are we now? Let us know
You had better make very urgent arrangements
And allow the Naira to flow freely
Life at present is unbearable
All the people are touchy
Whoever finds his way to the top
Should remember the poor.
The very day the poor decide to revolt
The rich will cease to enjoy;
We can’t be aloof
Meet their needs so that life will be pleasant
Make haste to
Work out a plan to make life bearable for the masses.

Artist - Lanrewaju AdepojuAlbum - ILU LETrack - Ilu LeGenre - EwiLabel - Lanrad Records LtdReleased - 1960https://youtu.be/AfWriRJ2Ggs - click here to listen...