Oh how much I want to be like everyone, scream, shout and sing Happy Africa Day, how I am tempted to post pictures, put hashtags on, enjoy likes and Retweets. How I wish I could pretend even if it was just for a moment that Today is Africa’s Day of awakening, day of unity. But then the usual messages of denialisms from those who caused Africa to bleed, to thirst not only for water but the blood of fellow brothers and sisters, those who caused Mama-Africa to miscarry brings me back to reality and my voice fails to be audible in saying Happy Africa Day.
I quickly remembered the condemnation of those that tell me how much brilliant mind I have everytime I say what they want to hear and call me to order and stop doing business with me the minute I am brave enough to tell the truth as I see it. So I went to my naughty corner to correct my behaviour as I was taught. I tried again, I thought of recording a video to sing and speak about a Happy Africa but the screams of the murdered grannies, mothers, daughters, sisters, cousins, friends and colleagues cried out too loud deep from the graves dug by the African men who were meant to protect them, I thought I should wake up and smell the roses but the smell of the mutilated, raped bodies of African women overpowered any smell of roses they hoped to receive while they were still alive and my voice failed to be loud enough to say Happy Africa Day.
I remembered to be politically correct and not try to be a feminist because I am trash like all of them, I was reminded that I am not clean and not better than any of those men so I shut my mouth too. I do my business the same way I was taught. So I then thought of doing what I was taught by those who have been in the game longer than me, pay my way out of justice but the underdeveloped malnutrition bodies of Africa’s infants used to demonstrate the philanthropic nature of the West filled my mind and I lost my ability to make out words to say Happy Africa Day.
So let me be not the spoiler of your fun, let me not waste your valuable celebration time because you need to finish so you may go back to your master, work awaits you. Tomorrow is back to the normal unHappy Africa
I quickly remembered the condemnation of those that tell me how much brilliant mind I have everytime I say what they want to hear and call me to order and stop doing business with me the minute I am brave enough to tell the truth as I see it. So I went to my naughty corner to correct my behaviour as I was taught. I tried again, I thought of recording a video to sing and speak about a Happy Africa but the screams of the murdered grannies, mothers, daughters, sisters, cousins, friends and colleagues cried out too loud deep from the graves dug by the African men who were meant to protect them, I thought I should wake up and smell the roses but the smell of the mutilated, raped bodies of African women overpowered any smell of roses they hoped to receive while they were still alive and my voice failed to be loud enough to say Happy Africa Day.
I remembered to be politically correct and not try to be a feminist because I am trash like all of them, I was reminded that I am not clean and not better than any of those men so I shut my mouth too. I do my business the same way I was taught. So I then thought of doing what I was taught by those who have been in the game longer than me, pay my way out of justice but the underdeveloped malnutrition bodies of Africa’s infants used to demonstrate the philanthropic nature of the West filled my mind and I lost my ability to make out words to say Happy Africa Day.
So let me be not the spoiler of your fun, let me not waste your valuable celebration time because you need to finish so you may go back to your master, work awaits you. Tomorrow is back to the normal unHappy Africa
