AS THE CUSTOM DEMANDS

As the custom demands,
Let us run a test, not urine test.
Let the midwife run her hands around her tummy
And tell you the foetus is a boy.

As the custom demands,
Let us foam oil-palm with potash and consume our yams
Not with spices and seasoning artificial ruin our taste.
Let us mix salt and water to cure stomach aches
Not with paracetamol and novalgin.

As the custom demands,
let's sing moonlight songs and tell tales
Of heroes and ancestors and of great battles.
Let the drums call for lost traditional carnivals
And reckon yesterday's serenity,
Let the elders count the seasons and forecast the horizons
According to their features
And tell us how the soil would yield.

As the custom demands,
Let's pour libations to appease the Gods
And pray to the spirits with spirits.
Let the smokes of worship and the sweet savours of goats
Rise to the heavens for mercy.

As the custom demands,
Let our young women return to honouring virginity.
Let our young men protect the laws of morality
And glow with a lustre of fair patriotism.
Let our fashion depict sanity and culture,
Let our language portray wisdom.

As the custom demands,
Oh, Africa!
Let's return back to Africa and be Africans!