Africa, my heritage.

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Green grasses and wild lives,
Tall trees and brown sand,
Blooming flowers and bee hives,
These are the blessings of my land.

Beautiful dark skins that never cracks,
Dressed in shades of Ankara's,
These are the things of the blacks,
They keep us united as one.

Our different cultures and traditions,
Native foods and local palm wines,
These are our favourite addictions,
Take a taste of the black man's land.

Beautiful well beaded women,
Dancing to the glooming moonlight,
And to the pleasure of our men,
Oh dear! Our darling moonlight plays.

We heed to the words of our elders,
Old black men and women of great ages,
Grown into being our wisdom lenders,
Respect for their white hairs is our obligations.

Those are our heritage and culture,
The birth mark of our mother's land,
Where we came from we must nurture,
Never forgetting the footprints of our fathers.