It was 4:30am on a Friday
We were awake
The echoing sound of the bugle and whistle of the army ceasing our sleep.
It was like the coming of a bride on a dead conscience
That beats the virile heart.
Most of us were piqued
Like the beast in quest for safety
Felt like a thorn in the flesh
Some said it is a vile routine
No! It is the thrilling exercise of the brave.
Like moths, we sang and danced in the sand without music.
Foolishly without shame just like a nonentity.
White clothing for identity
Colour of peace and unity.
Our faces were ablaze with joy and dignity, without any trace of anxiety.
Like the ministers of justice and truth
We rejoiced and parade around the holy vicinity
Chanting and singing “Ajakanaja”
The exotic song filled the air.
Mixed feelings polluting the atmosphere.
A few days were left for the drilling
Like the spirit, we gave in to the rhythm, allowing the stage to exploit our capacities.
Our voices surging to the Heavens with a desire to serve our fatherland with dedication and selflessness
The Clarion call, we responded.
With a feeling of oneness and love
For growth, upliftment and unity
Under any circumstances with sincerity
Love, service and tenacity is the symbol of our unity.
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