A place to call my home.
Where my home will be respected.
Not gunned down. Not bombed.

A chance to make the earth my heaven.
That my children's children go see udara chop
A chance to till their space on earth.

My future in my hands, not in a visa
My passport a source of pride, not escape
My cars and food, made by my people
The roads and bridges too.

The Biafran dream is an African dream
One of independence of body and soul
mind and ideas, not influenced by foreigners


to fall in love with the village people
to make the village your future, not jerusalem and mecca
to know the continent that holds our feet is ours
to design the continent in our own image, and ideas

HappyPagan:
A place to call my home. Where my home will be respected. Not gunned down. Not bombed.
A chance to make the earth my heaven. That my children's children go see udara chop A chance to till their space on earth.
My future in my hands, not in a visa My passport a source of pride, not escape My cars and food, made by my people The roads and bridges too.
The Biafran dream is an African dream One of independence of body and soul mind and ideas, not influenced by foreigners

to fall in love with the village people to make the village your future, not jerusalem and mecca to know the continent that holds our feet is ours to design the continent in our own image, and ideas

This is a fascinating piece. .

Heartforus:

This is a fascinating piece.
.

Thanks.