Not because I was born there
But because my heart beats with African continent
I am an African
Not because my skin is dark like the black pot
But because my brains and minds are engaged by African issues
I am an African
Not because I live on its red soil
But because my soul and spirit is at home in Africa
When Mother Africa weeps for her offspring
My cheeks are bath with tears
When Mother Africa honours her elders
My head is bowed in respect and humility
When Africa mourns for her victims, be it old or young
My hands are clamped in prayer
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My body and feet are alive with dancing
