Remember them, the many faceless heroes
Who left their nameless homes
To defend a shameless cause.
They left without good-byes
They left wives and kids with no assurance of a return.
Our heroes, yes they are
Who trudged in the deep forest night and day
Guns loaded and ready to fire
Once the enemy’s footsteps are heard far or near.
Our heroes, yes, your heroes
Some were 18, 16 and even 14
Who took up arms to defend a curse
While their leaders drank and played the boss.
You are heroes! Yes! Heroes! The devil shouted
Fight for this cause and defend this land
This is our motherland Biafra
And we must protect it from these filthy rebels.
I hoped and prayed for Emeka’s return
A soulmate who left to defend a wasted cause
I watched his mother grow old and pale
From the painful pangs of a hopeful return.
100, 300, 500, we lost count of them
Consumed by the great fury of warfare
Their lifeless bodies piled up as monuments
And their expressionless eyes the mirror of an evil dream.
They came cursing, ravaging, killing
But our hero already on exile in a strange land
Spare us! Spare us! Our mothers wept
But their blood thirsty weapons couldn’t even spare the sucklings.
Fifty three years gone but hope not done
We still strive and fight for that same curse
We lose strong bloods to their devil’s power play
Wake up! Young Man before this venom devours you!