(Gentle xylophone melody ripples in)
Yeah, let the history speak for itself
Some things are written in the stone
Some things are written in the wind
Let's walk through the corridor of time don't hate me dear cousin Litunga. Come on KabsT!
If history fades and the pages turn gray
Common sense acts as a light on the way
Peeping through the tunnel where the shadows lie
Underneath the vastness of the endless sky
We look back to eighteen ninety-eight
Kamusongolwa mountain stood up to its fate
The Bakaonde settled way back in seventeen hundred
Long before the map was torn or sundered
Roots run deep in the North Western soil
Built on the spirit and the honest toil
Boundaries drawn by a hand that’s cold
But the story of the people never grows old
Let the truth stand tall, let the spirit be free
We know who we are, we know what we see
Lewanika sent his army to the mountain crest
Putting the strength of the Bakaonde to the test
They faced the Bamwela, held their ground so firm
While the Basanga alliance watched the tide turn
No tribute was paid, no knees were bent low
That’s the legacy that the elders know
Why claim a title where the power didn't reign?
Why stir the dust and try to sow the pain?
Roots run deep in the North Western soil
Built on the spirit and the honest toil
Boundaries drawn by a hand that’s cold
But the story of the people never grows old
Let the truth stand tall, let the spirit be free
We know who we are, we know what we see
Earth has its lines, man has his pride
But history has nothing left to hide
Western to Westerners, North West is our own
In the land where the seeds of the Bakaonde were sown
Don’t take what isn’t yours, don’t build on a theft
When the truth is all that we have left
Time moves forward, the seasons they change
But some old narratives are looking quite strange
We stop the talking, we stop the old debate
We focus on the future, we seal up our fate
It’s time to move past the shadows of old
And listen to the stories that haven't been told
Respect the boundaries, respect every soul
Living together to make the nation whole
Roots run deep in the North Western soil
Built on the spirit and the honest toil
Boundaries drawn by a hand that’s cold
But the story of the people never grows old
Let the truth stand tall, let the spirit be free
We know who we are, we know what we see
Let the mountain rest
Let the history breathe
Common sense finds the way
Through the tunnel
In the light
(Malimba fade out)