The rulers drew borders,
ink slicing through land,
but Africans need no lines,
no cages, no flags.
Their home is the earth,
their map is the sky,
their journey is freedom,
not chains on a page.
Let them walk Kurdistan’s mountains,
let them breathe the Middle East winds,
for their belonging is not confined
to boxes called nations.
Africans do not need borders —
they carry the world already,
every step a homeland.
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