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EPILOGUE:

When wisdom fills the old calabash,

It overflows and seeps in

The sun dries it to be stronger

That way it lasts with experience

So was the calabash of Atanga’s Granpa

On his very dying bed

He called Atanga to his bed

And had his last stream flow to him

GRANDPA:

My dear Atanga,

Please in the name all great Atangas

This is my last advice to you

If you wish to take a wife

Never choose either of these:

The woman with light skin

The woman with dark skin

The woman who is short

And the woman who is tall


ATANGA:
Ei! Grandpa!

Then tell me not to marry

Who then do you want me to marry?

Not the fair

Nor the dark

Not the short

Nor the tall?


GRANDPA:

Listen my boy

To words of old

The light skinned woman

Is the fantasy of all

If you choose her

None will help you prosper

Every man wants you to fail

So they can quickly take your place

So never dream of the fair woman

No matter how much you crave for her


ATANGA:

Oh! I see

I think I do understand

Grandpa what about the rest?


GRANDPA:

Never go in for dark skinned woman

She is the one that all your people loathe

She is the one whose people hate you

The only people interested are you and her

When disaster strikes, none will hear

So never go in for the dark skinned woman


ATANGA:

Oh! I see

Now I know

It is not the colour

Nor the character

A woman like that

Would do me harm

Now let us go on

Explain the rest


GRANDPA:

Never go in for the short woman

A short woman is the neighbour’s daughter

Her house is so close to your house

You can never have a moment of peace

Whatever you do

Her people poke their noses

You can never have your lives to live


ATANGA:
Grandpa is wise

So what about the last?


GRANPA:

The tall woman

Is the woman who comes from afar

Her home-town is far

So you can’t have peace

Any time there is trouble in her home

You need to pay

To get your people to go with you

Amidst the feeding

And transportation

How can you proper?


ATANGA:

Granpa is wise

Grandpa has lived

Who would have thought

Of these wise sayings

To an infant where thoughts are concerned?

Thank you Grandpa

So which type of woman

Must I marry?

Grandpa?

Grandpa?

I am asking you a question!

Grandpa!!!!

Grandpa please answer!!!!


MMA:

Grandpa is gone

To the land of beyond

Where sorrow is nil

And thinking is unreal

Just be glad you sipped from his calabash

Of wisdom before he left

PROLOGUE:

And that ended

Grandpa’s advice

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
Naptural Mermaid Nov 2014
To those who protest on why they should say the word *****
Unfollow me

To those whose heart does not mourn over an innocent life of POC
Unfollow me

To those who yell "go back to Africa"
Unfollow me
if you cannot comprehend that your ancestors where not here first

To those who fail to understand their white privilege
Unfollow me

To those who scream out "what about black on black crime"
Unfollow me
If you're blind to the multiple genocide your people create and label as "war"

To those who simply choose to ignore this injustice
Unfollow me for no action at all is the greatest injustice of all
Wuji Seshat Nov 2014
Deare God, preserve the innocent
For they have put their trust in thee
They follow nature without recourse
Thou art their Lord, so protect them

They have not harmed anyone
Their sorrows multiply from the
Minds of Men that thou created
Their inheritance is a portion of thy creation

They suffer now without need
Preserve Them, O God: for in thee
They put their last symbol of faith
They have nothing to bargain with

They cannot pay to escape chaos
They would sell their daughters to
Feed their families, with holy tears
For so little freedom is granted the poor

Therefore my heart would be glad
If you spared a few of the poor
The pure, the self-sacrificed, the down-trodden
Remember them too, while nature inherits

The wicked, the industrious, the hoarders
Those profiteers know nothing about you
God, if there is such a thing as a hell
As a punishment for sin, let it be seen

Let the Nations that do wrong be punished
And let their children bear the weight of the stain.
Jimmy Herrighty Oct 2014
you were just one man.
jailed for infinity.
you never bent.
stronger than steel.

oppressed from day one.
segregated by your skin.
you were never broken.
stronger than steel.

the odds were against you.
against your entire race.
your faith never wavered.
stronger than steel.

i walked where you laid.
where you eat, where you ran.
your land gave me strength.
stronger than steel.

your love was so unending.
your hate, no where to be found.
you saved a who nation.
stronger than steel.

Madiba. Madiba.
Nelson Mandela
the original superman.
Stronger then Steel.
Towela Kams Oct 2014
I've never really liked the idea of culture
How it supports the African man
For the sins he commits
In closed doors

He calls his father and uncles
And reports his wife from youth
Says she doesn't do anything right
Says she doesn't respect him

Almost immediately,
His Uncle grins
He is reminded that
He once had the same problem

Recites the same words
That he was moulded into
As a young groom
To his wife from youth,

"It's true, they never do anything right.
They don't respect. They don't respect!"

His wife's mother is listening
She has flashbacks as well
From back in her day
She tells her, what her mom told her,

"Don't answer back, Mo. Don't defend yourself. When you're wrong, you shut up. Even when you're right, you shut up!"

She's astonished, but she accepts.
She goes with her husband
To their matrimonial land
As he continues to mock her

On arrival, they meet a lady
The African body, with braids hanging from her head
Beads on her hair, waist and feet
Standing all so proud

"Esther!" He cries. "What--are--you--doing--here?"
"I'm pregnant for you baby!"
"What?!" "Really?!"
"Yes love!"

Mo is about to scream now
Esther has always been a threat to her marriage
But when she tried telling Wanjala, he would lay his hands on her each time
So she keeps quite about the events she witnessed, a month ago, with Wanjala's brother, Sam, and Esther in bed together.

Sam was a good lad. He respected women.
He loved Esther very much. But so did Wanjala.
Wanjala stole her heart recently, simply through a flash of a few coins to her.
Sam was not wealthy as Wanjala.

Esther's baby could belong to Sam.
She can't tell Sam because he never knew about Wanjala's affair with his girlfriend.
She heeds to her mother's advice.
She keeps her mouth shut, like the African woman she is.

She remembers what happened earlier
When she overheard what her uncles said
Her husband had falsely accused her of adultery
And yet, here he is today, receiving the fruits of it.

* The END
The African culture supports men with everything. The African man is arrogant and proud. He is influenced by the crowd which always agrees with him depending on his financial position. The African man can't be told what's wrong and what's right. He is always praised and adored by his fellow men. He has no regard for his wife from youth. The traits of the African man are found in each and every male born and brewed in Africa. I don't want my children to live in such a world with traditions from 100 years ago!

Women, respect your husbands. Esteem him and he'll exalt you. Embrace him and he'll honour you.
Men, respect your wives. Esteem her and she'll exalt you. Embrace her and she'll honour you.
Dark Jewel Oct 2014
Beyond the past,
Beyond our future.
Evolution is inevitable.

Change,
Will always be apart of,
THIS sand of time.

AS the dreams commence,
As our path becomes clear.
The treasuring reward,
Is within the crystal sphere.

One finds its true dream,
Within the universe that bonds.
Finding Thy Destiny,
Beyond the red sands.
A poem that was revised for a Book presentation
Miguel Muller Oct 2014
An ebony goddess
of beauty never seen
she is African
Caribbean
a Nubian Queen.

She the essence of
her father
she the essence of
her mother
in heart she is
our sister
in heart we are
her brother
in heart we are
one in her
as a fire
like no other
with her
the world does
turn
with her
our bellies
burn
as we long to be
near her
we love her
not fear her
she sings out
we can hear her
as she moves
we can mirror
all the light
she projects
what she adores
she protects
what is foreign
she respects
what is hostile
she rejects.

She is precious
she is priceless
with her presence
we are warmly
acquainted
with her blessings
we are joyfully
painted.

~Miguel
Wuji Seshat Oct 2014
i heard another person in my village
died today, we didn’t dare touch
the body, his organs had bled out

there are no white people here
white as ghosts, they are going home
my friends in America tell me
we are not on the news, only Jewish
people fighting muslims, but

don’t they know we all come from Africa?
i heard the super-nationals took this
virus into a lab and created a way

to rid itself of the old people of civilization
if Ebola spreads maybe the world
will not remember what it means
to come from tribes that your mother came from
once, we left Africa and now we leave her

to her misery, well you know what
maybe fiscal ebola is just around the corner
for people who live in America, people

who live their lives on debt, credit, profiting
from heatlh insurance, death insurance, the works
but the fact is, I don’t think this is going away
I think Ebola is here for a very specific reason
The world is ready for another plague

to hemorrhage like a zombie, it’s not news?
not if you are black, if your body fluids
don’t stain your white skin, not when
it’s on another continent, that you don’t have
relatives in, don’t call it a “black death”

just because it originates in bats from Africa
there isn't a vaccine because the world
intentionally doesn’t wish for our well-being
you say it isn’t airborne, it doesn’t spread easily
because we are somehow *****, and you are clean
because you are somehow rich, compared to our poverty?
Written August 3rd
Tawanda Mulalu Oct 2014
I don't remember when I finally figured out
that racism is real. But when I was much younger,
I think I was somewhat uneasy with how
the white girls
were always the prettiest because
we saw them on TV,
having adventures
in pink dresses.

Of course one had to wonder
where one could see himself or herself
on a TV screen without being made
a secondary character; a black
Shadow.
I've recently become aware that my skin colour is kind of a Thing. And I should probably start thinking about what that Thing means. The point is, as much as many of us would like it to be, skin colour isn't Nothing and we can't all always just exclaim 'but we're all human beings!'
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