Dawns had been long and weary-
Twenty-two years dissipated
Marred by shifty pounding of our remaining brains;
Daily rapes of our fervent flowers
And the unceremonious hikes of our daily bread.
Today, a nation is born from our strenuous strives.
They said the camels we had are barren
And wildy, we searched for the fertile youth
But it wondered farer from our trestle.
Never had we stopped wandering through the showering heat.
Finally the new nation is in our worried palms-
An egg facing a rash rock japping in our backyard;
a rosy garden coated with fusty quills.
From birth, most of us had chanted the sacred song:
For The Gambia our homeland,
We strive and work and pray…
But never had it come that cheap,
Babies grew to the wild children of social media
who strayed in the streets hunting for the last coins,
Some brewed green tea in unending terms
And others eddied in the howling waves of the Atlantic.
But the new day never came swiftly as anticipated
Rather, it came with costs beyond our earnings;
It came with tears that flooded our river;
And unending nervousness to our weak populace.
But today, we have a lofty dawn,
Thick clouds shadowing the course,
And days ahead full of dismay.
Comrades, split the colanut
A nation is born from our union
And today is the last we have to guard
No matter how costly it might lead us to sweat.
The youths are hopeful about the next pantry
They will not be uncultivated but to help pad the eager nation.