Butchered in 1885

By Enoch Ojotisa

Africa is raped,
she’s being maimed.

Africa is robbed,
her effort to resurrect is foiled.

Africa is shared,
her body is dismembered.

Africa is sold,
bought by imperialism and its evil hold.

I am an African,
to see survival if I can.

Born With No Record

By Enoch Ojotisa

Catch me mother Sheba,
stretch your help,
Place your glory on his feet again.
Mother, my mother queen Sheba of Africa.

I am a man,
An African man so I am.

Father, on my way from farm of hospitality,
came a visitor with disguised conviviality.
In his hands, book of salvation,
in mine was a fertile land of culture.
But as we knelt in trust of prayer,
our destiny was switched.

Still a man,
but an enslaved African man.

Mother Sheba, look after Egypt your first son,
and Libya my brother, injured again in 2011;
help Kenya and Sudan my cousins
Forget not Nigeria your giant son,
he’s diseased of geo-political ailment.

I remain your dark skinned son,
Whose skin is said means evil.