Lasting call

Some will call it the last call
And to others-the last kicks of a dying horse
yet not all will take heed of the renaissance,
That can come from a call to action
If Africa's children get exploited and looked down upon
And the oppressor in his palace sings the victory song
saying-'see they don't even know their language-
see how they take up the language of others'
And at that point he thinks high of himself,
and lowly of the ones below,
Then he himself is sick .
He suffers from a disease without a cure,
because then he doesn't know humanity is the same.
Humanity from the north and from the south,
Is same as that from the west ,and even east.
Some don't came to Africa for anything else
Except delaying the dreams of a continent
And----cementing dependence.
Who will teach our children about these things?
Achebe is no longer and Ngugi has kept quiet.
Quiet in the sense that he no longer evokes
with the same passion as in old days
This generation needs direction and identity
albeit with a touch of newness for a different time.
I don't wanna go up a mountain and make a clarion call,
About this crossroads that lead to nowhere,
This aping and copying of trends!
This export of worth and import of nothingness!
This brain drain that sharpens the oppressors axe
I don't want to wrap my frame with a sack cloth.
I would do if i knew it would play the magic wand
and change a peoples conscious.
In the meantime i make a last call,
Not last because no other option remains,
But because i know it will last.