From our cradle,
We heard them cantillate the axiom;
"Education is the key to success".
They meant well, truthfully.
For they dreaded our end in a mess.
In our "ga vɔ le Togo" and "kamegodi",
We trekked to "abɔdzokpo",
In a quest to get the key.
On an empty stomach,
We chanted ABCs and 123s in high key.
Davi Mansa sold her GTP cloths
To get us quills and parchments.
We engaged in indentured labour
To stash some cash,
Cash that only paid debts.
The teachers' whip didn't break us,
It kissed our buttocks almost alway.
We did not give up anyway
Until we were given the sheepskin.
Hurray! the dream is made.
Now the key we've got
And here we are on the streets.
Where is the door?