Why has the ground under my feet become so shifty?
Why has the comportment of the government become so dirty?
When and how did we get here?
Why are the mountains grumbling like a charged diarrhoea?
How long shall I walk these winding roads of displacement?
I behold cracked feet and broken faces,
Starveling children clinging to dehydrated mother’s breast,
Can’t you see the eyes baked white in hunger?
Oh, you that cause this displacement,
Tell me,
Can one person occupy a whole nation?
Why can’t you let the people be?
I mourn the loss of loved ones
Slashed by the swords of the enemies,
Swarming in on humans like bees,
The senseless helpless gun bearers,
How long will you wait to repent?
You soldiers
of death!
How long will you torment the innocent with your charged irons?
How long will you keep doing wrong?
Let there be peace in Sudan,
Let the sounds of joy and gladness be heard in her streets.
Though I walk this winding road,
I still expect a return call from home,
A ceasefire, a call to celebrate,
And though my feet are cracked and weary,
I shall happily return,
And rebuild the ruins,
Clean the graves,
Patch the huts,
And light a fire,
A fire at home that’s always the warmest.
I hope that someday, very soon,
A call shall I hear,
A call of ceasefire,
And though my feet are cracked and my limbs are weary,
I shall gladly return,
Though the journey be long and the road winding,
The way home is never too long,
I’ll happily walk back home,
And till the fields once again,
Feed the cattle,
And pray to my God.
Yes, I expect a call to return home,
That my people shall again walk on the land of their birth.
I expect a call to return home,
A home safer than what it is now.
A safer home,
Yes,
A safe Sudan.
And like babies in their mother’s arms,
We shall once again sing songs of holiness,
South Sudan shall once again smile,
Singing the songs of victory,
The songs of peace,
The songs of unity.
I expect a call from home.