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Forgotten Soul

In that primeval town ... Our enemies attacked They stole our farm inputs And raped our women Our young men were taken into slavery

In that far land We were made to forget our tradition We were made to speak foreign languages Because they did not understand ours Our culture Our heritage Our identity as a people Sunk under the eyes of those tyrant and selfish shepherds

A rich history; yet untold A brave community; yet forgotten The love evaporated Trust vanished Anger, resentment and greed Became the order of the day

We have now been given foreign names

Simpson, Wellington, Richardson, Davies, Richter, MacCarthy What happened to our traditional names? Names given to us by our posterities Bentum, Naa Atswei, Baduwa, Akushika, Appenteng, Ashirifie, Adebleku, Bajaku, Ayariga Our traditional names are gradually losing its significance And now our young women prefer to be married to men with the foreign names Instead of the ones that reflects our real identity

We were bound in chains and shackles Like animals Ready to be taken to the alter For the final sacrifice We were exhibited like animals Examined and purchased by other human beings as a form of property We work so hard under the scorching sun without resting Whips and rods whack our backs Only the brave survived

Dreams of dear motherland Was the only faith we kept alive We sung traditional songs on the plantation The only happiness we carried Home is what we crave

Its okay, If we lost our precious minerals Due to our own naivety But did we have to lose our root And place of our origin as a people

Now we look back to dear motherland With our heads bowed down Awe! Awe! Awe! We cry What has happened to our beloved town? We are now slapped so hard in the face

Is our fault We welcomed the stranger with both hands? Is it our fault we gave him water from the calabash to wet his dry throat? Isnt it tradition? But we failed to realise that behind those smiles Were ulterior motives To steal our rich minerals Rape our gorgeous women And throw the rest of us into slavery

Beat the gong And lets tell our story

Were no more nave For our dirty faces has been washed And our depleted confidence is now restored

Im the voice of the lost brethren Im the voice of the loner Im the voice of the marginalized Im the pride of our motherland Im the forgotten soul

To the lost and forgotten soul Senegal, Nigeria, Ghana and the rest

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