From Mungo Park's canoe,
Over the river of Niger,
Down to Flora Shaw's orgasm That named Nigeria,
All is a distorted history.
From the Royal Niger Company,
Down to independence That sired our troubles, All is a misnomer.
From our first Republic,
To the 1966 troubles,
Down to the failed military revolution, That tinctured our regions With the cold breath of war.
From the young guerrilla soldiers,
To the night of bloodshed,
Down to the Igbo massacre
That birthed the civil war, All is the handiwork of colonialism.
From our deep history of glory, To our days of fallen brothers,
Down to our neglected days,
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