My father’s son I am; I am hard to repress
from a distance, you’ll without doubt
pick me out from a multitude
even before you engage me
before I open my mouth to speak.

I’m son of an open society –
unhinder’d and unhamper’d
I fear no god or man
belief not in handicap
but one man is as good as another.

Whatever my dress style, ‘m self-confident
undeniably individualistic, intelligent and industrious
receptive to change, highly competitive
custom-made to grasp opportunities
and where none exists create.

Am the proverbial country boy
who came to the big city
made good, prosper’d and conquer’d
because my palms itch for labour
for hard work, reputation and fortune.

I’m not your enemy even thro’ you loath
my burst of energy and competitive spirit
don’t punish me with a cold shoulder
or scheme to crush my idiosyncrasies
but harness and celebrate my ingenuity.

My father’s son I am; son of the rising sun
East to West, North to South
there’s no doubt but a clear sense
of where I belong in the wilder world:
on top, on top.

© Ugo Nkwoala | 2018 | All rights reserved.

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