TAKE BACK WHAT IS YOURS

I can not speak for all the millions of souls that have been ignored and rebuked by this selfish modernity. I can not speak for the billions of souls whose whose voices cry out from the depths of history cursing their heirs for betraying the land. 

I am a humble young voice that can not speak for my brothers and sisters that live and die as though they are nothing but tiny specks of dust that come, go then are with all honors forgotten...I can not speak for the land. BUT OH WITH ALL MY BREATH I CAN SPEAK FOR MYSELF!. I can raise my voice that has drowned in oceans of sorrow and let it fly high over the mountains of oppression and chant " I am a man. " " Give me my home. " " Why can't you let me be? ".

              The innocent african has been stolen from his home, beaten and murdered because he desires to feed his children from the fruits of his land. The innocent african has been denied every right to what is honourably his. Why?..And yet sadly the african has tolerated this cruelty. I ask again WHY?.

This here is no call for revolution or violence to the enemy. It is a cry of sheer pain and disappointment to what the beautiful african has allowed to become.

How do the children of the motherland with all their gifts and extraordinary ability allow to be so abused and broken. Destroyed into nothing. A long time ago we welcomed strangers into out land, they claimed that they had brought us humanity.

They called it truth. A cure to our insanity. But these visitors as pure and kind as they tried so hard to appear they were the seeds of the plant that would lead to our destruction. These visitors carried gifts such as lovely fashions they claimed were suited for the civilised. And then they said that they had humanised animals. Then they brought us their beautiful abcs and told us to forget about our art, our true hand. And since these visitors were so divine they told us to give up our homes, our wives,  our sons, our language, our stories. Our skin. All just so we can have theirs and become useless voiceless brainless clowns.

Pice by piece these visitors tore us apart. They used perfectly curved boundaries to divide and make different what was always one and the same. We gave ourselves to these visitors and turned our backs on our ancestry. But since time was always destined to dictate our freedom . A honourable few raised from the ashes of hopelessness and fought for what was ours. Our messiahs whom they also did not hesitate to eliminate. Because of their genuine hate, they took away even the slightest hope that we had. "What did we ever do?" .... These cruel humans labelling themselves world powers! They know they don't stand a chance against Africa. So they fight to stop it from happening,  they steal all that they can. But it's never enough. They kill all they can. But millions more are born each day. 

Raise your voices all of you, children of the land. Spit out from inside you all the poison the visitor has fed you. Send him out of our land. Cut down with all your might his tree of oppression and selfishness. Africa belongs to Africans. Bring back Gaddafi. Bring back Lumumba. Long live Mandella and hail all the children of Africa..... 

They can beat us, they can burn us, they can kill us but they can never destroy us.......

シェア - TAKE BACK WHAT IS YOURS