Muyuh

Look at our hills
The Majestic Bamenda Highlands
Once crowned with mists and dignity
Now choking by a smoke that does not
come from cooking fires

See wa pikin dem
Sons and Daughters of the soil
Now walking like ghosts in broad daylight
Their youth is being swallowed by white powders
Chemical nightmares,
Tramadol dreams and synthetic escapes

Look at them melting
Right before our eyes
Their brilliant minds reduced to ashes
See how their skin di shake shake like
old dross inside cold

When a look wa family dem
E don turn na war zone
Mothers are and have cried until tears
no di comot again
Mami di tie e wrapper, hold am strong
for hid chop money
Sotey e fit fall inside toilet when e go for
toilet
Just because e own blood, e own pikin
don turn na tifman

See reppe dem do shiddon tie mop, voice
no fit comot
All because of the shame
The shame of watching the future they labored for,
Dissolve into a syringe, a pip or a pill

Home is no longer sanctuary
It's a crime scene of broken trust

Commercial avenue is bleeding
From food market to mile 4
The city vibrates with a dangerous
desperation
Wu street no still get rhythm
For how do we build a tomorrow
When the builders are passed out on the
sidewalk

The future of Abakwa is being sold
wholesale
On the street corner.
And if we keep quiet, Bamenda will
become a graveyard
Of unfulfilled destinies

May the Gods of Abakwa rise
May they rise and strike these beasts
These merchants of death
These architects of this ruin
The one who count coins
While our children count their last
breaths

You who imports, fabricate these toxins
in dark rooms
Trading the souls of our children, our
brothers, our friends
For stacks of blood money, feeding your
families
With proceeds of our destruction.

I tell you know the piece of tramadol
But its time you know the price of a
mother's tears
You make know the weight of a kilo of cayou
But you dont know the weight of a small
coffin

My heart rage for the one in uniform
Taking brown envelops and looking
away
While our children perish
Protecting the beasts and penalising the
victims
You are the lock to the gate of hell
You hold the key
You have traded your oath for a coin
And history will judge your silence
As a weapon of mass destruction

The blood of our children is not on the
syringe or the pipes
Alone
It's on your black suits and polishing
shoes

Ma papa dem
Ma mami dem
E nova late
But small-time e fit late
Small time still dey for build a fence
around this faya

You gave life to these children
Do not give dem up
Most of them didn't choose this
The enemy became wise and hid this poison
in sweets, biscuits and bottles of drinks
Not forgetting peer pressure

It's time to ask the questions that hurt
Before we get the answer that destroy
Know their friends, search their rooms
and belongings
Look into their eyes until you see the
truth
Do not shame them—save them
Wrap them inside wrapper for ndolo trong
Make that need no fit pass

Finally, my brothers, my sisters
Forget that name wey dem di call wuna
Listen to my voice
You are not a statistics
You are not a waste
Don't let them numb you and still your
inheritance

It's time to rise up
Look at your hands,
They were made to build not to tremble
Look at your mind, it was made to
conquer
Not to be enslaved

Yes, withdrawal will hurt
The battles will be fierce
But you must fight and take your
destiny back from these beasts

Break the habit
Break the chains
This land is not your graveyard
It is your birthplace and tonight
Give birth to yourself anew

And let us reclaim the Bamenda
Highlands
One life at a time
One day at a time

Breathe
Breathe
Breathe

 
Tanni Desmond Awa (Mottanni)
2026