About

My voice. . .


If you think-
My voice carries the hate of my ancestors,
You are wrong.
My voice doesn’t carry the hate that you perceive
It is far from the information that you received
Conceived out of prejudice’
Comprehended with malice.
If you think-
My voice carries the hate of my ancestors,
You are a wrong.
The voice of my ancestors is neither for nor of singularity
My ancestor’s voice is not a one man holding the mantle
Looking so gentle
Yet within, his soul is hard as a metal
My voice does not carry any hate of my ancestors
In fact, it is not even my voice
But rather a sound of a cow’s horn being blown
It is a voice of the darkness that engulfs the light at the
end of the tunnel knowing very well
That nobody will speak up.
Nobody would dare speak up against it.
Against the darkness that has turned everything into a funeral rite.
Against the beauty criterion that makes black people believe that they are ugly
That beauty is white
Against the black culture that has been trodden on in favor of the norms of the western culture
Against the Christian religion that serves to coerce blacks
African spirituality that has been blemished by dominant system and described as an illogical superstitution
How can you still believe in a religion imposed on you by your former enslaver?
Against the received language that makes everything that is bad black.
Against the falsified black history that makes the black man believe he is an incompetent barbarian since the dawn of time
Against the system that chooses to stay silent, deny our generation the knowledgeon which they can thrive
My voice is from the void in a pit dug deep that we fell in and sleep
the freezing of lips, the crippling of tongues, the blinding of fingers, the detachment from the roots
the lack of a pen. . . .
Standing in stagnant water knowing very well
That one day, one of the white folks found a touch of blackness in a soul
Somebody would speak out
Somebody would speak up and say that the hate that you perceive is nothing but echoes of your white mind
If you think my voice carries the hate of my ancestors,
You are wrong.
Because my ancestors never have a voice.
They are way too busy listening to you.

4 thoughts on “About

  1. …at first i was not taken up …not untill when i approached these lines is when i started feeling the “energy flow” of the poem

    “….That nobody will speak up.
    Nobody would dare speak up against it.
    Against the darkness that has turned everything into a funeral rite.
    Against the…….”

    I was like yeah here now i feel kitaka the lion roaring…

    Great work!

    Liked by 1 person

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