We rise like dust on the winds of change,
Feet firm on the soil of a broken land,
Gen Z, a voice in the shadow of pain,
Demanding a future, no longer banned.
We chant for good governance, a right long denied,
In streets where hope once bled and died,
But we rise, fists clenched, voices loud,
To tear the silence that cloaks the proud.
Bullets rain, but we stand undeterred,
For freedom’s call can’t be deferred.
We carry the weight of a generation’s dream,
In the face of tyranny’s brutal scream.
Some fall to the ground, their blood is the seed,
That waters the soil of our righteous creed.
In memory of those who dared to fight,
Their spirits soar in the darkest night.
We are the storm, the fire, the spark,
Born from the embers of centuries dark,
No chains can hold the will of the free,
For we are the future, we are the key.
By Amina Kamara