AKURMI(The conquered)

Seated on kudaru hill, admiring the beauty of my native Paradise, oh the beautiful sights of, U'jura, U'garu, wuroko, kankare, u'waba through our borders with Jos, Kano and Bauchi. Admiring the cosmopolitan Saminaka, I saw stains that activated my pains, then I murmured to myself, oh how foolish where we to ignore this stain. Behold his Majesty, the symbol of our authority and pride, Bugwam bu A'kurmi, walking in strange royal regalia, it looks like that of Dan fodio from the barren Sahara. When I looked up to his turban, all I saw was a lost glory, his garments, portrayed empty pride, oh! our cultural pride and heritage. So I said to myself, where his that crown made of the cheetah's skin, where is that royal staff made of precious stones and diamonds. As I reflect over these, then I heard my younger brothers struggling for Ujango, which they now call U'rake, then this sound pierced my heart, oh! Lost heritage. As I climbed down the hills walking through the valleys then, I heard my politician saying "we are kurama", now this word was a sword in my heart. Oh! We have lost our identity, they have contaminated our minds, culture and being. As I look into tomorrow all I saw was a dark cloud of horror, the thought of mh heritage going into extinction was a dismasted, the fact that, my next generation will only speak the intruder's language hurts me, tomorrow is filled with terror, the terror that we will be called tenants in our father land. We are Haru'Nzume, we are Akurmi, we are a threatened generation, we are that song played on a bad speaker, mixed by the wrong producer. I am Bu'Kurmi not Dan kurama, I love ukase, not pate. Arise, defend, protect and uphold our culture.