Born and brought up under
Her gaze and her careful watch
She taught me to move, match
Following the traces of my elders
Born and groomed to be leaders
I’m the cherished of a woman
Who grew up not envying any man
She looked brave with her red eyes
Fierce like fire, moving anticlockwise
With a mind of hers, strong and brave
Always smiled but could bite, like a grave
Unafraid of darkness, yeah, she was brave
I’m the son of a strong daughter
Of a woman silent and calm like water
Inoffensive, stubborn, water with no arms
Crawls and encroaches to course harms
Yet with big heart as bold as the sun
Freely sharing smiles like good son
I’m the son she calls from the underworld
Where the grave believes to have her walled
Smiling she reaches out singing in a golden
Voice as she dances to sacred songs that embolden
She says: “stand straight, son, reach out to the sun.”
— Nnaemeka Ali, OMI – Black and Missionary
