Afrika is a place where children die, where Artists flourish in death and their minds are nourished by the decayed state of their brothers and sisters.
Afrika is a place where Sisterz sell themselves for gold pieces which is rightfully theirs, where they wear a mask of colour to hide their shame in being subhuman, they wear anything that would make them look or even feel like a piece of the White nation so that they may feel as though they reign supreme
Afrika is a place of hate, anger and devastation, a state of emergency that our politicians use to ignite fires of destruction in the young all in the name of being free
Afrika is a place where the Hellenistic philosophy takes money from the poor, disown their being and abuses what a Jewish Shepherd born in Egypt meant when he said "Follow me"
Afrika is a place that pushes it's women to the boarders of pain and self hate, where matriarchy is a symbol of oppression from our brothers, then from the system
Afrika is a place where Mothers bury their infants, where we have turned to dogs that prey on one another
so I ask where is the love?
Forgive me Child of the soil but you have lost it, you are evil, perpetuating all that dehumanized you in the past
Afrika is a place where Men murder their own children, mothers, sisters, brothers and are consumed by Russian ans Irish Spirits, abusing the herb of our Coptic friends in the North east
Afrika is home to Idi Amin, Shaka Zulu, Robert Mugabe, Rob Sobukwe, Steve Biko, Haile Selassie, Queen of Sheba, Empress Nerfetiti, Rain Queen Modjajdi, Nehanda and so many more
but most of all, Afrika is home to me and you, and I refuse that I be told in encrypted codes how Godless I am, I refuse to hold on to concepts of inferiority, I refuse to inflict white supremacy on myself, on my heart.
I refuse to inflict black dictatorship in my politics, I refuse to hate all that is white because it is secretly what I would like to be
I refuse to treat my elder with disrespect, I refuse to let discourage my sister who's trapped in a life of drugs and meaningless embraces with all who care to lay her
I refuse to let my brother die in hopelessness, in life of crime against his own, in a life of crime against his heart
My soul cries out every time I see that black and gold on green Afrika, because it is a place of hope and I refuse any less
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