At sixty years, my country stands,
Yet the oppressor’s heavy hands,
Rest upon the land, in tightening bands,
A struggle for freedom, in distant sands.
The virus of division, a relentless invade,
Metal of capability, through religion swayed,
Bloodshed and unrest, a dark charade,
To keep the continent, in poverty’s shade.
When will Africa, Nigeria be truly free,
From the chains of oppression, can’t you see,
The spirit of the people, yearning to flee,
To a future where all souls roam free?
In the heart of Africa, hope still gleams,
Amidst the turmoil, amidst the screams,
With resilience, we chase our dreams,
At sixty, a land of promise, it seems.
So let us unite, in the struggle’s fight,
For freedom’s dawn, in morning light,
The oppressor’s grip, we shall smite,
At sixty, Africa rises, a beacon bright.
