The phenomenon is a great tradition

A great problem to our federation

A nation, not progressing! Not retrogressing

Just in a static point as a statue

The dear citizens sober day and night

The heartless ones consume the nation’s treasury

The nation is worse rather than better

The pot-bellied bastards with hollow promises

Make the nation plunge into a great disorder

The solution is in our dear hands

Sons of the land! Don’t cross your legs

Patriots! Are you on your Sleeping beds

I can hear the sounds of patriotic battle bells

It is time to strive to conquer

Wuraola writes


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