In the depts of my soul, where memories unfold
A journey through time, to the stories of old
As a little child down the streets of Garkida
Caboodle of love and care in the family of Zakama

My grandmother's whispers echo, with legends she told
My essence, one that particularly makes me whole
In the house of Zakama, where my story begins
With Akins, and growing up with the twins

The fragrance of heritage, wafts like a sweet scent
Connecting to my land, where my spirit was bent
And if anyone dares to traduce me about my roots
Their behind might have a meeting with the end of my boots

In the soil of my culture, where customs appear
Through the trees of my family, I climb with care
Branches of love and laughter, tears and repair
Take me to my roots, where truth lies in store
The wisdom I'm instilled with, stays in me evermore

The leaves of my tradition, rustling with every breeze
In the town where my heart finds ease
Everything has a purpose, but my family is my peaceful nest
My roots, my sense of belonging, that forever will rest
© Ibrahim Zakama