Nemo Dat Quod Non Habet Poem by Ebi Robert

And I say, Hauwa, Habiba and Yauwa
are shinning golds refined by the smith
of the fire of hope, to be
the pillars of the Black man's home.

I heard Habiba say,
'We will write physics tomorrow'
and with it I will build the black-man home.

But in sleep I was burnt out;
awakened by the sound of a shot.
Wake up, move on, western Fools.
Here you sleep, snoring in our title.

We were beaten on the soil of our sons,
pushed to the trucks, bundled like the farmer's bunch of woods.

Hauwa held Habiba in hope
as they say 'Goodbye to tomorrow'.
And as we rolled through the leaves of Sambisa
Amidst mountains, hills and lakes
I wonder if I could ever see Africa
with her loamy earth, suns and graves.

Shall we ever see her wondrous face?
Of thy youth, age and embrace?

Shall we ever hear the gongs of Botswana
sound the sweet songs of our Gumba gumba?
Shall we ever hear the sound in the morning
calling and passing notes of the Igbo town crier?

Or ever listen at all to the stories of Shaka Zulu
and the battles fought by King Koko?

We need to hear Mama tell the tales of
how he fought and gave hope to Africa.
And more tales of great Opopo' Jaja
and the modern Diba of the black man

But still, as we run far from Chibok
I heard a voice talk'
'Open to the Book of the Black'
and read from chapter one, verse five'

It says 'Bring back our girl'.
Bring back the daughters of Africa!
Bring back our girls,
for they are to build Africa!

Do not dare to trade them
for 'Nemo dat quod non Habet'
For if you do not bring back our girls
Africa shall bring them back with your head'