Fair Africa thou bearest scars of foreign rule
That doth enslave thy soul thy nations chafe
And fret like captive stars that shine in darkness
And cannot find their wave
Thy cultures shine like rich tapestries with vibrant threads
That entwine thy prime but dark colonialism clings
And casts a shadow that doth make thee pine
Thy leaders bold like lions roar and stand
Against the foe that doth enthrall thy land
Their struggle fierce like raging seas doth toss
And tear but still thy spirit like a rock doth cross
Thy people suffer like a tempest-tossed sea
And still thy freedom like a mirage doth flee
Thy heroes fight like warriors for thy right
And die like martyrs in the bloody fight
Their memory lives like a beacon in the night
And still thy struggle like a flame doth light
Thy chains of bondage like a weight do press
And still thy voice like a cry doth protest
Thy history tells of struggle and of pain
Of foreign chains that bound thee like a slave
But still thou rises like a phoenix from the ashes
And still thy spirit like a fire doth rave.