Habari Ghani my sister? Habari Ghani my brother?
Habari Ghani?
I'm adamant about joining the Marcus Garvey movement.I'd like to take this opportunity to own up to my ignorance towards the language and customs of the African people. I'm guilty of making fun. But that's because of deep rooted ignorance, that extends way beyond satires and spoofs. I'm trying to go to Africa and be one with the people and customs of my ancestors. I want to dismiss the ignorance and apologize to the people for being entrenched in "whiteness". I want to transcend the "black body" and mingle with the boys and girls who I'd refer to as my sisters and brothers. I want to dance soukous to the beat of all tribes. I want to be fluent in Swahili, Ga, and Igbo. To be real with you, I want to voyage to the mother land because I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. Like Kephra said, I'm experiencing the kind of tired that makes me want to stand up and do something. Call me a fool, but Africa is by far the realest place to be. African people are some of the most beautiful people that I've met. They have a spirit and resilience about them that is unmatched. Despite centuries of racism and prejudice, Africans are proud people; and no matter how hard one tries to defame Africa, African people's pride can never be ceased.
For a while now I've been
shouting out the colors of Nigeria. Although I may have sounded foolish while emulating the Nigerian accent, I was coming from a place that barely anyone understands. To you my newly found appreciation for African culture may be just a phase. But I'm going to keep it real with you, because this is not a phase. I've always appreciated Africa for what it's worth, but some sort of force has recently invaded my body. Earlier this week I was telling my sister's friends that I want to go to Africa. Ironically at the poetry slam that we all attended a few hours later, the most talented performer on the Hofstra team happened to be from Nigeria. Despite her petite stature, her words and presence were enormous. She spoke to us . She relayed a message that only the open minded understood. She preached to a choir that conceded to everything that came out of her mouth. It wasn't just a coincidence that after weeks of me boasting about Africa, this girl confirmed all of my desires to be one with African people.
"My
four fathers can't be found in South Dakota on Mount Rushmore, they are not featured on the USD either." That's because my
four fathers are
Malcolm, Martin, Marcus, and the
Messiah. The white man teaches me that being Black was the worse thing that anyone could have been prescribed. Ironically my
four fathers teach me that being black is a gift not a curse.Race is a social construct but being black is amazing. I have embraced my brown skin as beautiful, and no white, black, yellow, or green person is going to refute that. The paradigm that the fore fathers established discounted anyone who was not white, educated, and wealthy. However, African Americans went against the odds and showed out in various fields. African Americans have proven that you don't have to be white and wealthy to succeed. My black people have succeeded through thick and thin. My black people have showed up and out. My black people are running the white house as we speak. And my Black people will continue to succeed.
My black is beautiful, strong, and resilient. Habari Ghani?!