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SUBA, THE WANDERING PEOPLE
SUBA, THE WANDERING PEOPLE Oh Suba, whose name means 'the people are always wandering'! You left Uganda, crossed the great waters and settled where the lake meets the shore. Listen! I have come to sing your name!
You are Mfangano's heartland where the elders remember, where Kwitone's cave holds ancient paintings, where Wasamo rainmakers talk to the old spirits. Suba! You are not lost, just scattered like seeds on the wind!
Your language, Olusuba, is a jewel on the lips of your elders, is dying on the edges of the world's atlas, but still it rises in smoke from old women's fires, still it sings in the sibi dance.
Suba, you are the fisherman who knows the lake by heart, the mother who tells her daughter the ancestral names, the drummer who remembers with his hands what his brain forgets. Suba! Your name is a drum that will never be silenced!
SUBA, THE WANDERING PEOPLE Oh Suba, whose name means 'the people are always wandering'! You left Uganda, crossed the vast waters and settled where the lake meets the land. Listen! I have come to celebrate your name!
You are Mfangano's heartland where the elders remember, where Kwitone's cave holds ancient art, where Wasamo rainmakers speak to the old spirits. Suba! You are not lost, just scattered like seeds in the breeze!
Your language, Olusuba, is a treasure on the lips of your elders, is fading on the edges of the world's map, but still it rises in smoke from old women's fires, still it dances in the sibi performance.
Suba, you are the fisherman who knows the lake by heart, the mother who tells her daughter the family names, the drummer who recalls with his hands what his mind forgets. Suba! Your name is a drum that will never be muted!