I was born in Abyei and became a soldier
I came, saw and conquered
Life threw a fight and I thought I wouldn’t survive
They chased me from my own ground
But they forgot, I ain’t ready yet to let mama down
Though the path gets narrow and hard, to God I still follow
Small boy today, big boy tomorrow,
I’m 64, not 4, your enemy!
I rose from the western part of Wau
There, you work a million times harder
I was born and raised with nothing and yet expected to do everything
Where I come from, freedom is a forbidden dream
We are marginalized, oppressed, depressed
Underrated, discriminated and disregarded
I’m 64, not 14, your enemy!
They keep asking questions
Who are you?
Where do you come from?
What are you?
And they laugh as they ask
I’m Achol, little but mighty
I’m the history of our nation
I’m 64, not 24, your enemy!
How do Azande offend you?
Is it surprising that Nuer dance as if they have diamonds placed between their thighs?
Out of the huts of Twic Mayardit and they stand high
Rooted in pain, we are light as Lotuko
I’m 64, not 34, your enemy!
Have you wished to see Bari broken?
Shoulders falling down and swollen?
After all, our language is hardly spoken
So go ahead, shoot me with your words not guns
Cut me with your lies not pangas
Kill me with your hatefulness not genocide
But just like the morning sun, we will rise like the great mountain of Kinyeti in Eastern Equatoria.
I’m 64, not 44, your enemy!
If only Didinga had stopped laughing and started advising
If only Maban had taught those topics of sexuality more thoroughly
If only Toposa had ceased treating human nature as an abomination
If only Shilluk had been given the rightful cancellation
Maybe just maybe she would be here with us now
We are 64, not 54, your enemies.
Help me tell Nuer and Dinka to live as one
They are part of the 64 not enemies.
