Nigeria, the song of my grandmother
Now I am quite a lot older
Sounds like a lavished praise
Indeed, the song of National praise
A time when she nods her head
A gesture of reverence she made
Like in front of a person of valour
A hopeful song I still remember now
I want to sing it but how

Can I pretend not to understand
Now that the pet is in the wrong hand
Her face shined like a morning star
Unspotted, undaunted and rid of scar
Hopefulness springing from her side
Which later was considered a long stride

This is my grief
It had ruined my belief
Forever in anguish, I will be
Oh! That’s how everything crumbled, not stable
Like a stumbling, trotting turtle

Mine is the nation looted and raided
Everyone marked with red
Who again is safe when they strike
Young and old are alike
At night has fallen downright
No one can be seen, there is a vague sight

There is no place to tarry
Just because we are due for quarry
Blood gushed and flows like Ogbaku river
Everflowing and flowing wherever
Who can bring this to an end
His ambition we must attend

Just say it, mention it and it is done
Make it known and you have won
Our land needs sanity and peace
Ruthless men have torn it to the least
Till this is at last done
My sorrow, your sorrow will to the grave run
Oh! NIGERIA, Giant of Africa

Prisca Onyinye Nwokorie is a  Roman Catholic nun. She belongs to the religious order of “Oblates of St. Benedict Joseph Labre” in Italy. She is a graduate of the University of Bari where she obtained her Bachelor’s and Masters’ degrees in “Information and Communication Technologies for the Production of Software” and “Computer Science” respectively. Currently, she is carrying out research work on “E-learning for Developing Countries”.