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From the Eastern part of Aso rock,
I shout with a cracked cry wailing
in the words of freedom.

We have been sidelined, ignored
and given the worst of the national cake
where the yeast didn’t swell,
and the icing lost it taste.

Where the flour became dust,
and fire burnt the scorched the
root of our hardwork.

We are the same borns that baked this cake,
tilled for fire, and whisked the egg till dawn.

under the sheets

Let us go!
We are tired of being Israelites
Under the throne of a black Pharoah!

Let us go!
Now our languageIs forbidden in
cathedrals and synagogues.

Let us go!
We built the landyou destroy
with your selfish desires.
To walk through men holding guns

Our young men shiver when they say, “I am igbo.”
If our children grow in this land,
The blood you spilled will curse you to your death.

Let us go!  

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