Hunger pangs shoving us,
Screaming jail: bandists\' verdict.
They have stolen our bail bonds;
Same politicians!
None to set us free.
Convicted in Kankara,
Jailed in Kagara by the bandits
Hammering our innocence away
We look to the cactus for a respite;
Not even the rocky hills could lend
A pitying glance our way.
So fiendish are the paths that carpet the thick forest.
Streams we passed chorused in lullabies,
Drawn from plated epitaphs.
Chefs from a sacred tribe
Hold forth in all facets of country.
Their cooked broths choking us to death:
That man and country all clamped in jail,
Face to face facing each other\'s folly,
In this uncompleted building now our jail.
To think of coming out of water with fire on our backs,
Will it be extinguished by colonial chefs
Who flagged off this uncompleted building?