I am an African
Not because of the colour of my skin.
Nor because of the kinkiness of my hair.
Not because of the clicks of my langauge.
Nor because of the flatness of my nose.
But because I was born in Africa.

The calling voices of my struggling brothers and sisters.
Their cry and anger in my ears i hear.
Soon and very soon they say
peace and happiness will be here.

In spite of the Mud house am in
Humility and Hospitality i keep
Ubuntu and Imbeko are big
the teachings of my elders I keep
putting a smile on anyone I reach.

An African is what I am.
Many have left their far away continents to bask in the sunny African Sun.
Taking land by force for in it there are reaches far imagined.
A land full of reaches yet maltitudes stay poorer.
And still I stand tall and say I am an African.