The sound of Africa runs
through my veins,
The beat of the African drum is the rhythm to which my feet move,
the direction my footsteps take.
The God that shaped this continent has breathed life,
and passion into these broken bones.
I am called. This is home.
I am haunted by the pain, the confusion, the joy,
that I see in the eyes of my people.
The politician, the beggar, the doctor, the prostitute.
All my brothers. My family.
We are the same.
Through us run the same rhythm , the same beat.
We move to the rhythms of our continent.
Our hearts beat to the tune of Africa’s song.
It is time
It is time to stop ignoring the brokenness.
It is time to dance to a new song
Breaking these chains of injustice, poverty and oppression
that hold us down, keep us from dancing,
Do we not all walk on the same ground,
Sleep under the same stars
No longer can I stand and watch my brother
to the ground.
Hopeless. Wronged. Broken.
These are my people.
This is my Africa.
I will rise and dance to a new rhythm.
I will walk in step, in tune, with the
beat of freedom and justice.
This is the beat running through my veins. .
I am dancing to the rhythm of my home.
You and me. At home. Together.
To a new Africa.
This is the sound of Justice, equality, freedom.