A deep grief rises within me All around are signs of a lost identity It’s not just the jeans I wear Nor the skyscrapers I design I look back and find nothing My very roots don’t echo life to me Does the Manyatta hold knowledge? Does the Ankara have meaning? Remnants of a culture I will never get to see Colonization governs the land of thought Steals the wealth of heart Count a year and then count 60 How much did we lose? Nipped at the bud Never having a chance to become To
