I rose like my mother, with spread wings on top of a mountain, my feathers, beautiful to behold. I shone like diamonds engraved on a diadem

I rose with my wings, far above the hills and the world and his wife stood in awe! From China to UAE I was like a beautiful bride adorned for her groom

I am an eaglet, no, not just an eaglet, I am the Golden Eaglet.

Who has not taken a bite off my joy? I dance and sing like a minstrel, I gave my mother the best of my children. The Kanu’s, the Oruma’s, and…

My beak was blistering, I poached for fun, I flew to the highest heights, I was a small prince adorned by kings

Oh how my wings have been clipped! What have I done? I wanted to be like my father but now…

I had dreams, I had hopes, I had a future

They said: “no more wages”. Aha! They do not know: I am the father of my father and a son for my sons. What have I done? My wings were clipped and my beak was smashed.

Wait! No more stories, I am a Golden Eaglet. My dreams have gone up in flames, raised by the ambition of old men

A basket of rackets, a basket of rackets, a harvest of failure

An enemy, a friend, a good menace!

M
R
I

Save my drowning soul, save my mourning soul, save my morning songs

By Bethel Kalu

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