Bia nga, umuaka.
Listen to me, and listen well,
to times God saw,
before you came.
God’s own tears were,
felt all day.
The air so thick,
it could be sliced in half,
take a piece, put it in
your mouth, taste
despair, within our nation.
All of us, could taste it there.
Smell flesh burning and
souls destroying. Shrieks
and wails, carry the fallen.
Men and women, so strong
together, pick up sticks, and
guard their huts. Hear their
prayers to Almighty Chukwu,
to give them strength, for
that day. Hear their songs, fill
the air so boldly, for
their righteous land,
they’ll defend.
IPOB is who we are.
Biafra or death,
is what we say.
All hail Biafra, to the very end.
Anyi bu nnwere
onwe nke Biafra.
Wait right here, my
northern friend, all we
want is no more fear,
just one day, for our kids
to be safe, just one more
day, to build our lives.
All we pray for, is food
in our bellies, biko, I beg,
leave us our land.
Our children’s cries
will surely kill us, cries
of hunger, and poverty
haunts.
Pleading words, fell
in the gutter, bombs of
anger was bestowed
on us. We searched for
armour to help
protect us. Our eyes
fell on, Biafran souls.
Our songs of freedom
was all we had. Our
hearts of gold, the Lord
will protect. He heard
our prayers from high above
us, He filled our hands
with rifle sticks. We fought
our foe, who came against
us. We fought our foe, with
Biafran spirit.
Before we knew it, they
came to our village. Who knew,
they would end up there.
Without a fleeting thought of
compassion, the food we ate,
they stopped it there.
With open eyes and empty
stomachs, we searched and
searched, to no avail. Cries of
hunger was surely heard
there, but our northern
neighbours, just looked away.
With sorrowed hearts we
came to realise, we couldn’t
go on, as we were. Our fallen
family were just too many, far
too many, at last count. One
million, of our beloved
children, will no longer play,
on God’s green earth.
Our sticks are retired, yes
my dear, but Biafra remains,
alive this day. So, wipe your
tears upon your face,
Biafra will, be restored one
day. To the fallen, I’ll say to
you: “anyi agaghi echefu gi!”
Starving children of Biafra – how Biafrans lost the war