We dream of lands where justice reigns,
Where men and women break their chains.
In the eyes of the Creator, both the same,
No higher call, no greater name.
The breath we share, the life we grow,
Blood of crimson, hearts that know.
What strength in man lies, woman holds,
A spirit, fierce, of fire untold.
In fields of fame, across the track,
Where Blessing Okagbare won her stack,
Men and women stride as one,
Underneath the same bright sun.
In citadels of knowledge pure,
The female mind is bright and sure,
Like Attahiru Jega, bold and wise,
No heights too far, no distant skies.
Upon the altars, prophets rise,
With sacred truth in woman’s eyes.
Fluid of life from both is given,
In equal parts, new hope is risen.
So where begins this myth so stale,
That men should rise and women fail?
To say a man can do, a woman cannot,
Is but a lie we should have forgot.
For strength and wisdom know no bounds,
No crown is born upon our crowns.
The world, it gifts us power, then,
To rise as equals, women and men.
Inferiority fades away,
When freedom lights the bright new day.
Marginalize not, preach no shame,
For both are equal, both the same.
Egalitarianism, strong, must grow,
A seed of hope we all must sow.
In every heart, this truth must dwell,
Equality must break the spell.