Complain we may, much is a mess
Hope went past our feet to the springs
Those days were ill ones, nothing sure is
But your love is wrapped with ours.
As we think continuously of those who were great,
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history.
The desire to nibble the hearts of the Africans
But what is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of your Godsent work.
Breaking through the soils of Africa,
The love and sacrifice you gave to them
And to give them a living and ability
But you left the vivid air sing of your name.
And now I declare to pass and complete
The desires of your heart for the African child
To fulfil the desire your heart wanted to
Your family misses you.
By Joy aged 18 Kumi Hospital