For the Motherland, we say No:

For the Motherland, we say No: The Drumbeat We Have Heard Before I hear the drums again, beating low, The same old song from years ago, A third-time echo, a borrowed crown, But Zambians know - we tear it down. Not in my Zambia, not in our name, We are not children of the same old game. We learned from Chiluba's fallen hand, That power bows to the People's stand. From Zambezi banks to Copperbelt dust, Our Constitution is our sacred trust. Two terms you serve, then you go home, You do not make…

For the Motherland, we say No:

The Drumbeat We Have Heard Before

I hear the drums again, beating low,
The same old song from years ago,
A third-time echo, a borrowed crown,
But Zambians know - we tear it down.

Not in my Zambia, not in our name,
We are not children of the same old game.
We learned from Chiluba's fallen hand,
That power bows to the People's stand.

From Zambezi banks to Copperbelt dust,
Our Constitution is our sacred trust.
Two terms you serve, then you go home,
You do not make the State your own.

You call it love for Zambia dear?
Then love her enough to disappear.
True patriots know when to let go,
When the harvest is done, you leave the field to grow.

Those who pursued it did not end well,
Their names became a warning bell.
Mobs cheered them once, then streets went cold,
The story is ancient, too often told.

We are One Zambia, One Nation strong,
We sing our anthem proud and long.
Not for a man, but for the land,
For every child who'll take a stand.

So let the drums beat themselves to sleep,
We are awake, our watch we keep.
No third term here. Not now. Not ever.
Zambia First - today and forever.

- Kalenga