(Verse 1 - Context & Survival) No long-term plans, no future written in stone We live in the present, where the hustle is known From Kinshasa's streets, where the traffic sounds loud We don't plan for tomorrow, we walk strong and proud The currency crashes, the prices just rise But the strength of the culture is where our hope lies. (Chorus) This is resilience born from having no choice Living by Article 15, we clear our own voice Every morning a battle, a dance with the clock We adapt, we recover, absorbing the shock The system is broken, but we stand through the strain Tozo bunda ya kotelema (we can stand up), we carry our pains. (Verse 2 - Mechanisms of Adaptation) The black market moves under the burning hot sun Barter replaces the cash, the hustle is run Hunting for madesu ya bana (food for the kids) each day Street solidarity keeps the danger away It is no longer planning, it’s tactical fight To feed the whole house, to survive through the night. Le marché noir s'anime sous le soleil brûlant Madesu ya bana (le pain quotidien), il faut le chercher Chaque franc, chaque dollar, sert à nous protéger Ce n'est plus de la gestion, c'est de la tactique pure Pour nourrir la famille, pour soigner les blessures. (Bridge - The Heart of the Informal) See the change (money changer) standing on the block Juggling the exchange rates, watching like a hawk The survival economy is making something new At the makeshift tables, under the plastic shade This is where the real life and real deals are made We survive minute by minute, hour by hour Inside this urban chaos, elikya (hope) is our power. (Chorus) This is resilience born from having no choice Living by Article 15, we clear our own voice Every morning a battle, a dance with the clock We adapt, we recover, absorbing the shock The system is broken, but we stand through the strain Tozo bunda ya kotelema, we carry our pain. C’est la résilience née de la nécessitéIci, c'est l'Article 15 : il faut se débrouiller ! Chaque matin est un combat, une danse avec le temps On s'adapte, on survit, face aux éléments Le système est brisé, mais le peuple reste debout Toko bunda ti na suka, on ira jusqu'au bout. (Yoka son, Joseph Dela Sulh) Libanga, Libanga
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