Cecil Dodoo

And I screamed, Mother! Mother where art thou?
Where art thou? For in bondage and captivity do they throw me,
My sweat is thickened like the blood of the leopard,
My thoughts roaming, like Djato the angered lion,
For I know not where my persecutors desire to take me.
Hold me! Oh earth of my village, and let not I, Oko be taken,
Hug me! Oh trees of my land, that my farewell will ever be remembered,
Whisper into my ears, talking drums of my ancient fathers,
That wherever I am taken, my heritage will not be forgotten,

Mother where art thou? For thy breast do I long to suckle,
Mother where art thou? For thy hug do I long to buckle,
Mother where art thou? For thy son is dry and thirsty,
Mother It is you I need, in that land of a threatening beginning.
Lay down your hands Papa, that you may impart your daring courage,
Spring forth your blessings, that the rabbit be freed from the cobra,
That the fangs do not sink deep into my dermis,
That the elephant though heavy, not tramp hard upon my body.
Comfort my mother, and shield my little siblings,
Let it be sung, of Oko who was enslaved,
And let their destinies not end like my tragedy,
For today as slave, I am captive.

Cecil Dodoo