Time reaches towards the ends of the needle,
Excitement, plans and engagements doubles.
Ndi obodo tapping drums,
Ụmụ asa dancing as they capture beats in their eardrums.
Hands waving signs to waiters and waitresses
A request from emperors and empresses,
Come, bring more!
People who strongly believe in the anthem (in their voice), “Lib’ive n’ive adigo mma!”
Indigenes on costumes so colourful,
A splash of excitement like perfume, this is beautiful.
Their skins glowing.
talents uniquely mind-blowing.
Kedu ka Chukwu si kenye anyị ọmọlịcha ụmụ dị otu a?
The vibration of their vocal cords
harmoniously rhyming in accord
It has never only been about buying and selling.
Unless you wish to say that we are selling the beauty of our culture, quite compelling.
If you cannot golibe, you’d rather wait for Ofala,
Two dices, double festivals in a year, this is Onitsha,
Through the eye of the needle,
You needn’t no struggle,
From the eating, the colourful carnival, the pleasant art gallery with displays of artworks. Flattery.
Masquerades fierce and seemly boastful in its parade,
Titled men stoned like Stephen with praises of happiness, the feathers on their cap, their long white lace gowns and the expensive àka beads speaking greatness.
The watching of noble men and women.
The rituals and the poise in which our Obi displays his royalty,
The pride in the shoulders of our women as they are labelled fearless without disparity.
Speaking of our Ọdụ-titled women, those ones with real elephant tusks embracing their hands and legs,
With joyous parade as their beauty knows no ends.
It is usually said that we wear the behavior of boastfulness,
But whichever you think,
we chose to tell tales of the beauty in our culture regardless.
This seems like twice a story,
but undoubtedly quarter of what it truly is.
This is Onitsha.