Serena
Strong
Elegant
Robust
Energetic
Natur al
Agile
Your cherubic face that frequently
Explodes with iron-melting smiles
Is like dry season moon
In its full bloom
That tames every darkness
On her enchanting path
An open invitation
To African men
Of valour to attend
Gainful moonlight games
Without chilling fairy tales
Mother Africa epitomized
Strong as a matronly muturu
With power brandishing biceps
Holding your robust frame firmly
As though they were developed
And trained
At Ugbawka paddy field
Under the wooing eyes of the
African sun
Accompanied by fondling rains
That shake hands across
Seasons-dividing net
Like two players after a game
True African woman
Resplendent and resolute
Nourished with fufu and ehwah
Soup decked with orisi-risi
That empower your prancing legs
At honour-conferring courts
Dazzling like mirror in the sun
Standing upright like invincible
Bamboo stakes that support and guide
Enterprising tender yam tendrils
Simple
Ebullient
Responsibl e
Enterprising
Nimble
Attractive
Endowed adequately in front
And at the rear
Much better
Than a customized limousine
Oh! those brave looking twin
Doves on your cherished chest
Like two mounted sentries
In adjacent watch towers
Brimful of sedative of peace
Fit only for the frayed nerves
Of an African general
With your offshoots
A regiment of would-be
African heroes and heroines
Africa, oh Africa!
Foundation of the universe
And its treasure chest
Home of mothers with large
Breasts that nourish mankind
Africa, here you have
Queen Esther!
(c) Chris Jibero.2010.
poem by Chris Jibero
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Related quotes
The Pride To Be An African
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of which everybody imitates
My Africa of which culture exceed the Greek
My Africa of which everyone is jealous of
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of enormous natural endowment
My Africa of Non-Violence
My Africa of Amorous populates
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of patriot men and women
My Africa of shelter and vintage hospitality
My Africa of great ancestral mythology
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa that bore fruits of black diamonds
My Africa which is a gift to the whole world
My Africa of great leadership
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of learned youths
My Africa of a bright generation
My Africa true tradition
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of black pageant women
My Africa of strong men
My Africa from who we all hail from
For every African deserves a Nobel Prize in
Existence.
poem by Fasan paul
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I Am An African
I am an African
I was born in Africa
Suckled mother Africa breast
I am beauty Africa
I stand under blue skies
Over drastic mountains
To behold vibrant countries
And feel at home
I bow down to salute heroes
Died on struggle
Striving Africa liberation
Development and capacity
Hail Africa
You are our mother
Feeding us with prosperity
Anointing us with acceptance
Africa is my mother
She will never fade
Gloom or cease
I am an African
poem by Poppie Mira
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The White African
The White African
By
Ross Dix-Peek
Over the great ocean seas
My ancestors did choose to flee,
Europe’s rumblings and poverty,
And to “Darkest Africa” did journey
It was many, many years past,
When Queen Vic’ was still at the mast,
When my forebears resolute did come,
To live beneath the great African sun
Since has Mother Africa suckled our young
To us her lullabies and sweet songs sung,
And all this time ‘neath her fiery mantle
Did my people in Africa live, toil and battle
Africa is not for the mild and the meek,
It's no place at all for the feeble and the weak,
And the days oft be savage and so very long,
Yes, it's only for the brave and the very strong
Many generations did pass, and many years shorn,
Before I too upon African soil was born,
Like my fathers’ before, a White African,
Created and cast beneath her scorching sun
And although I have since her rugged shores left,
My soul to Mother Africa’s bosom will forever be cleft,
And though I may miss the tight embrace of an African sun,
It matters not, for I will forever be a White African!
poem by Ross DixPeek
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African Spirit
Unfortunately, I will not stop,
Across Africa, I will travel with this African face,
My African pride,
And my African story.
I saw your face in Zimbabwe;
Then I saw it again in South Africa.
You smiled at me in Malawi,
Why were you surprise to see me again in Angola?
I carry the African song,
Listen to soulful rhythems from within.
I have an African heart,
With lots of love and pain, it won't part.
Your African face smiles at me with inspiration,
Across Africa and the world, give me an ear;
I speak an African language.
Someday you will know my love,
Someday you will sing my song,
Someday you will hold my heart;
Someday you will cry the same tears in my eyes.
Someday you will relieve my pain,
One day you will understand me.
Someday you will join my fight an we'll make Africa our pride.
poem by Peter Phiri
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African Boy
I am a young African boy
A unique individual with my own personal inspiration
Which is the golden key to build my future.
With a mind confused
I can still reach politely to others.
With a heart that's has been destroyed
I can still feel and care for others.
With pain that has cut deep down in my heart
I can still fell sympathy for others. with all that is in me I can still overcome those situations.
I can be a person I am
The one whose heart is filled with joy and passion.
I am a young African boy.
I'm proud of my black badged African skin.
I am an African
Not because I was born here
But because my heart beats with Africa.
Not because my skin is black
But because my mind is engaged by Africa.
I am an African
Not because I live on its soil
But because my soul is at home in Africa.
When Africa weeps for her children
My chicks are stained with tears.
When Africa honor her elders
My head is bowed with respect.
When Africa mourns for her victims
My hands are joined in prayer.
Africa my home
Africa my land
Land of peace
Land of my forefathers
Land of my birth
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My feet are alive with dancing.
poem by Elvis Fout
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I am an African
Not because im black.
But because my heart warms
And tears run down my face
When i think about AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i live here,
But because the African
Sun lit my paths.
Because the air that i breath
Is from these majestic mountains.
That air nurtured me
Growing up.
I am an African,
Not because i can speak
Swahili, Shona, Zulu or Xhosa.
But because my heart is
Shaped like a question mark,
Just like AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i am black,
But because my umbilical cord
Is burried under the majestic
Mountains of AFRICA.
poem by Siyabonga A nxumalo
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I Cry & Smile Mother Africa
I'm glad, an African,
My heart beats with African rhythms,
Dance with my feet on African beats,
The essence of culture, and everything.
Very happy with my colour of chocolate,
Uniquely gifted with talents,
Black and shinning like a star,
Not because born on African soil,
But proudly meant to be.
I cry 'cuz of what's happening
To me and my mother Africa,
Whilst those I consider as my brothers
And sisters are in laughters and cheers.
Strangers come and take our livelihood,
But the world regards them as heroes,
When it comes to morning I'm alive,
I don't know whether the sun will set.
Mother Africa dry eyes and
Reverse the joy that I had,
Everybody admires you,
You are adorable Mother Africa,
Land of heroic and valiant people.
Essence of love, nature,
Enormous mountains, beautiful rivers,
This day you embrace the entire world
But I still hold a gigantic cry
And smile Mother Africa.
poem by Kiyaga Lyttle Cephas
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Beloved Son
The legs of Africa are,
The legs of a struggle;
The hands of Africa are,
The hands of hope;
The eyes of Africa are,
The eyes of a cry;
The head of Africa is,
The head of the unborn;
The tail of African is,
The tail of a mission;
The horn of Africa is,
The horn of pirates;
The face of Africa is,
The face of love;
Like a message to my beloved son.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Oracles
Invaders, invaders! The oracles must be consulted;
From the North to the South and,
From the East to the West are the African Oracles.
The oracles of my ancestors are,
The trademarks of my African identity to a call;
We have to consult the oracles in times of need.
Who said it is not rue?
Who said it is not powerful?
Visit the Oracles of Africa and know the truth.
The African Oracles,
Do ask Mr. Okonkwo about it;
He will tell you why,
The Whiteman's 'iron Horse' was hanged on a tree.
Oh! The oracles of my ancestors;
Out of their mystic myths,
So lay their powers.
Of their creative arts and acts,
Of their spell which makes me think otherwise;
Yet still, the African lacks behind in many things.
If onne could fly in the thin air and able to vanish,
Why can't they form a Universal Soldier in Africa? !
Those are they who are bullet-proof too;
Are these Oracles also working for them?
The oracles,
The Oracles of Africa!
With respective rites for a passer-by who,
Wants to know more about the African;
Oh, the oracles of my forefathers.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My African Land
Forgotten trodden past
Hopeful saintful future
I walk in my African land
Africa bears its fruits on crushed branches
Its children bear hope to a tortured yesterday
I walk in my African land
With its tormented heart it loves
With is abused state it sees happiness
With its crushed psyche it looks on caringly
I walk in my African land
I embrace the streets of struggle
Covered by the sands of war from a grieved soul
My African people stride in colourful clothes
As a rainbow ending stormy rage of corrupted seas
I walk in my African land
Tall buildings escalated egos
Fancy cars, classy hearts
Large salaries, tiny compassions
My Africa forgets the hardships endured
My brother forgets Ubuntu
My Africa loses sight
Still,
I walk in my African land
My Africa shines with the sun
That burns dry the tears of his people
I walk in my African land
My Africa rises to a new world of liberty
Freedom from chained minds
Freedom from captured dreams
Freedom from limited abilities
I walk in my African land
My Africa bids welcome
As I enter with pride
Knowing that the war has been won
And success awaits
I walk in my African land
poem by Gabi Ngubeni
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Out Of Africa
We trod and trod only for out of Africa
We still tread in summer
We always cry out for help
The help of numerous African feebles
We at rest squeeze and squeeze only for gold
We still squeeze ourselves to the fumes
Fumes of poverty by our sites of sights on board
And we never overcome ourselves
We indeed tread and trod for a hand
For out of Africa is our face
Our face of dark and red continent of bungs
But nicely and strongly made
We can't stand near ourselves
Only if well induced
Add power to these poor mothers
Our energetic mothers with children ahead
These African frameworks, these poor beings!
We exceedingly tread for help
For Africa is not for Africans' hope
Yes we can states engulfed by this sky
We need to come out of these flakes
We trod and trod for out of Africa
We still tread in summer
We always flip for alittle push
Push for a support of our wholesome
For without kings' look we are drowned
And these heaps of feebles shall dance at us all
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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50 Years on This Physical Earth
50 years on this physical earth,
But husting and busting to make my name known t the world!!
Because, i have a message at hand;
And, it is not easy being born in Africa and being raised in Africa from a very poor family!
For, i can't stop the rain from falling on my head when,
I have no roof!!!
And like what is going on today in East Africa!
With the reflections of one of my Art Works called: 'We don't have aids but hunger'! !
Yes, from the very acts of my mind;
Because i am an African,
And i do know what it means to be in Africa.
Today, i am to thank Father Yahweh for all of His mercy and kindness towards me;
For He had really guided my steps from thr rough paths of an African's own story,
And, let His Mercy endures forever!!
For Africa is for the Africans and we have to know what goes on around us everyday;
And, in the land of Africa i was born,
But, have you to say?!!
Because, i am very proud to be an African!
And like the muse of your love in the land of many waters that satisfies us all.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Show me my Africa!
Show me my origin...
Show me my land...
Show me my Africa...
Shine and support the spirit of UBUNTU.
Take me back to where i belong,
Where birds fly well peacefully,
Where every creature is happy.
Let me hear African stories,
Let me see its natural beauty landscapes.
Show me my land...
The land of great heroes,
Where Nobel peace price winners were born.
Where fighting and murder is a sin,
Where all people wish one thing,
Where all people preach one thing,
Where all people practice one thing,
Where everyone wants PEACE.
Let me hear those voices of hope...
Land of admissible and prosperity,
Where cultural diversity means nothing, but
Brings us together as valiant regiments.
Past is the past and let us let it pass...
Show me my Africa...
Where robust and intrepid people lives,
Where the beauty of cultures reflects.
Let discrimination be the history
And believe in the beauty of Africa.
Show me my origin...
Let me venerate and cherish its traditions..
Let me be the true African.
Take me back to Africa.
Show me my origin,
Show me my land,
Show me my AFRICA..
('ubuntu' is a Zulu word meaning humanity)
poem by Siyabonga A nxumalo
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African Mama
African Mama as she struts down the catwalk
African mama with that multi-colored headdress
Vuluptuous woman
Independant woman
A woman of style
Africa's pride
Not fasion model's skinny legs
and flat bottom
Not half-shrunk cloth over disapearing waistline
Curves of Africa
Beauty of Africa
She is unconventional
Under-rated
Rich Beauty
Shocked faces stare as she transforms the stage
with her multi-faceted elagance
with her charm
and many colours
She is proud to be a woman
She she is mother
she is daughter
she will one day be grandmother telling stories around fireplaces
Her beauty is more than magazines
more than clothing
Her beauty is in who she is
In her free spirit
In her deep soul
In her rhythem
And in her heritage
She is Mama Africa
A woman of beauty
poem by Jessica Nobubele Frame
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African Spokesman
I am the African Spokesman and,
I have something for you;
Because, the muse of my African Stew tastes different from yours!
And, it is infused with a special ingredient from the African Soil.
I am the muse that you are reading and,
I am the African Child with my words so sweet! !
And like the love of your mind without the wars around you;
Because, i am always for the peace of this world.
I am the African Spokesman and,
I am presenting the muse of my mind from Africa to educate you;
For, mankind had now made more amumunitions for war!
But, we really don't need them when, we talk about peace on this earth.
Listen and look for peace around you always,
Learn and care for others around you always,
For education is not always about degrees! !
Because, the very professors are the very ones who made these weapons of war.
The African Spokesman is what i am,
Along the streets of Africa and around the hiding places of the ghettoes!
For, i have seen many things in my life and, i have more to tell to you;
But, like the colours of the rainbow,
We need to love each other in the name of the colours that nature gave us.
I am the African Spokesman and,
I have something for you;
But, if you listen very carefully, you will feel the muse of my love around you!
Because, this world is now being captured by the weapons of war than peace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mama Africa's Identity
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Fulanis and the Fulbes;
But the Savannah and the Sahara are here to stay in Africa.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Dogons and the Shilluks;
And of the cowries usedas money in those days,
But the identities of the African are in many faces.
It is like a durbar in Africa and,
At the market plac to meet others;
But a visit to the tomatoes market in Ghana will tell you much.
Mama African's identity,
And like 'the Golden Stool' of the Ashanti Kingsdom!
But wait for the dried-fish on the coasts of Africa.
Visit St. Louis in the delta of Senegal and learn about the ways of the African,
For my home i in El Molo;
And like Mama Africa's identity praising my muse.
Mama African's identity,
And of the pygmies in Central Africa!
But i have my mind on the Rift Valley,
And like the mirror of the rivers, lakes and the seas of Africa! !
The Massai and the Dinka do play their roles,
And like the Nubaians in South Sudan;
But with the temperature above 40 degrees in most parts of Africa.
Mama Africa's identity,
And like a message to my lover in Lalibala;
For early in the morning came the leopards to drink some water,
But a visit to Mount Meru will entice you.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Zulus and the Rendilles;
But the Afars are here to blend with the dry land.
Mama Africa's identity,
With the rhythms and rituals of the Africans!
And like the tribes of Ovambo, Herero, Xhosa, Shona and Matabele.
And like the Bemba, the Tonga and the Ovaimbundu!
But the red land of Africa care for you all.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of River Limpopo in the mist of love;
But try to visit the Victoria Falls to satisfy your curiosity.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Himbas with their traditional dance;
But the Kikuyu, the Hutu, the Tutsi and the Hambukushu are also there,
For Africa is a very big continent for all of us.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Our African Being
You are a soul
a love endless to those who love
a heart unbreakable to those shine,
those who glide and gloom,
those who glisten your image upon themselves
they are true definitions of Africans
You are a smile unseen
you are a life unborn
a burden of peace above hate,
late as the sun retires
your stars release a true divine tranquil,
not even the world has
Africa a true African
As generations of diversity
whose genes were torn my ill liberty
we see but know not of you
'Africa', the unknown stranger
Upon giving birth you plough pride
you give strengh and survival
But these young minds know not about that
Africa a true African
You brought power to the less fortunate
a powerful feeling that led a smile to the farmer,
a wonderful thought that pulled life to the dead,
the dead have not died in your territory
because their deeds fullfill the leaving dead
'Africa' what is your name?
Upon the sky of different season
at the beginning of every sunset
your name has been defined
thus your pride not defy
you are a cage of endless joy
a forest of hybrid adventures
'Africa' what stands in your name?
You are a home,
a neighbour full of wisdom,
warm, light and kindness
when you cry,
tears lead to thy war,
pain lead to thy hate
But the youth should bare,
that in you, we live
And pride makes us believe
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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The African Woman
Dark as coal
Inside out white as snow
An epitome of Herculean
An ocean of availability
The strength of motherhood
Beautiful as the dawn
Glorious as the morning sun
An acumen of blessedness
The shelter in rain
The rain that cools thirst
No mountains too high to escalate
No river too wide to overcome
Burdens and yoke, her garment of praise
The African woman,
A true color of womanhood!
The pillar of support
A refuge to refugees
A shelter to shatter dreams
Hospitality and care remains her watchword
The best gift to every destiny
The road that leads to destination
With tender touch her artistry
In pottery moulds destiny
Her soft wind blows satisfaction
The falcon whose wings are shield incomparable
The way in the wilderness,
The fountain of life,
The well of life
The bread of life
A rare gem worthy of praise
Nothing can take thy place
Oh, virtuous woman of awe!
Nothing can take your place
Oh, pillar of Africa!
Nothing, sweet mother Africa!
Smiles of Joy,
Smiles of hope,
Smiles of encouragement
Smiles to carry on
That is the lot of the African woman
Too beautiful to behold
the woman of valor
Deborah and Ruth
Hannah and Esther her mentor
Faithfulness and commitment her cereal
She is a soul-provider.
The African woman,
A joy of many generations,
A hope of glory
A tomorrow that promises
Amplitude of unprecedented fortune
The African woman,
Your oriki is a pleasurable sound
A tight music of yepa –wonder
A mirror of honesty
A beauty to behold
In the absence of the sun
She’s its replacement
She glows with pride and honor
She beautifies the lilies in the valley
The beast of the field makes whole
Her ‘wards’ christen her blessed
Her aspiration and inspiration
Enough to make one bed
Kings her wisdom seek
Nothing mama Africa compared to you
The African woman,
You are distinctive from mares
You are the true color of sincerity,
True love and honesty
Truly mama Africa, thou art a wonder!
poem by Olujobi Jedidiahz
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It's The Africa In Me!
It’s the Africa in me
that loves the forest in which I wake,
that sees and hears its fauna and flora
and revels in their names.
It’s the Africa in me
that you hear in my spirited conversation,
that shakes my shoulders as I sob my sorrows
or laugh my insides, inside-out.
It’s the Africa in me
that keeps me reading poetry deep into the night
and causes me to stroke the sinuous muscles
of my striped, domestic cat
and kiss the muzzle of my gently nickering horse.
It’s the Africa in me
that has taught me how to love
and patches up the fragments of my soul
after each and every disaster
and renews my zeal and increases my understanding
in preparation for the next onslaught.
It’s the Africa in me
that has carried me
from my first baby breath
and will support me to my very last.
it will let me eat with my bare hands
and save my energy from the strugle with folks
I am truly a child born of Africa.
for the African in me will llow me to stop,
and salute a stranger in a far away country..
it will let me host a stranger who has lost its way.
the African in me tought me to be friendly....
I belong to Africa!
I am The Son of the pregnant Land
where summer never ends!
poem by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga
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Africa and Africa’s
Have seen little of history unfold
I know that one thing will always be
Africa will be,
But what is Africa’s may never be
White man came
Green lands began to dry
So did rivers and streams
Even oceans and seas
Whatever the white man sees
Seems to vanish from Africa
Like dews do in his singeing summers
When he sees peace… there! Gone
The white man said he’d in Africa invested
In actual sense he had Africa infested
Looting without shame
Claiming England is Object; Africa its subject
There was gold, grandpa says
We fight over our own
Lacerate throats and disembowel ours
Man in white fuels it dressed in black
We choose our way
Dos, don’ts, and embargoes stay
When we invent, they endear us
Purporting supervision, yet looting
What is Africa’s one day will be
And shall remain African and Africa’s
What should unite Africa is Africa’s
It will never split Africa into Africas
poem by David Munene wa Kimberly
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