The year 1960, we got our name,
Oh what pride we had to utter that name.
Our one true identity,
The one we could call our own.
50 years later, I fear to tell them who I am.
50 years later, I hesitate to identify myself,
For my brothers have lied to them
My sisters have stolen their wealth.
My name has failed to tell them who I am!
Dishonorable! Dishonest! Disloyal! Selfish!
I do not blame them, for they are continuous victims;
So as I enter the room, and I think of my name,
Will they see that I am good, kind and true?
Will they trust that I can do anything I put my mind to?
Will they be ready to put their faith in me?
I cannot run away from my name,
Impossible for me to live a lie!
So as I take a seat and they ask my name,
I look into their eyes and say,
I am Nigerian,