"I Thought I Was A Refugee" | African Highlife Song

Lyrics: I thought I was a refugee Running from the smoke, With my little bag of memories And a heart that nearly broke. Mama said, “My child, wherever you go, The road will know your name.” But I was young, I did not understand, I only knew the pain. I crossed the river in the morning, With the darkness on my back, No map inside my pocket, No promise on the track. I heard the drums behind me, I heard the old men pray, And every mile I walked away Made home another day. I thought I was a refugee, A stranger to the sun, Chasing after somewhere Where my sorrow could be done. But the further that I travelled, The more clearly I could see— I wasn't running from a country, I was running from me. Oh, my brother, don't you cry, Even when the night is long. There is a river in your spirit, There is a drum inside your song. No be every road be home, But every road can teach, And the hand you thought was far away May still be within your reach. I saw old women by the roadside, Selling mangoes in the rain, Their laughter rising softly Like a hymn above the pain. I saw a child with dusty feet Still dancing in the street, And something in that little boy Made my broken heart beat. Eh-eh, my people, Life no easy, I know. Sometimes the world will push you Where you never planned to go. But carry your name proudly, Carry your father's song, Because even when the night is deep, The morning won't be wrong. I thought I was a refugee, But I was only lost, Counting every mile behind me, Never counting what it cost. I thought that home was somewhere Past the mountains, past the sea, Till I heard Mama's voice again: “Come back, my child, come see.” So I came back with empty hands, But something had changed inside. The mango tree was standing there, The old red earth was wide. The house had grown much smaller, And Mama had grown old, But when she put her hand in mine, I knew what I had lost. I thought I was a refugee— Now I know the truth. I carried home beneath my skin Since the days of my youth. No border could divide it, No ocean wash it free, The place I spent my whole life seeking Was waiting inside me. Oh, carry me home, Carry me home tonight. Let the talking drums remember What the years tried to hide. Oh, carry me home, Let the old bells ring, For the child who went away Has come back to sing. I thought I was a refugee, But the road was teaching me: You can lose your house and still Not lose your history. You can wander through the whole wide world, You can cross the deepest sea, But the soil beneath your footsteps Can still live inside your feet. Mama, I am coming home, I am coming home. The night is almost over, And I don't have to roam. Mama, I am coming home, Let the whole village see— I thought I was a refugee, But home was never fleeing me.