When I say: I am made of the red soil, pressed in with welcomed footprints of our spoken stories,

I believe it.

When I say: I am filled with the sun’s rays, shining down on me as a mother’s touch,

I feel it.


I do not say this lightly.


When you, white man,

Laugh at the spirit I know flows through my bruised fingertips and swollen toes,

Can’t you see you’re tearing me apart?

Your ideas, your atheism –

You clash with my motherland pulsing through my soul

My spirit.

And you crush me

Again and again.


We acknowledge the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, who are the Traditional Custodians of the land on which Woroni, Woroni Radio and Woroni TV are created, edited, published, printed and distributed. We pay our respects to Elders past and present. We acknowledge that the name Woroni was taken from the Wadi Wadi Nation without permission, and we are striving to do better for future reconciliation.