By Brian Browne
Beautiful and kind, the fecund woman was ravaged by a band of freebooters and thieves extraordinaire; in truth, it was a procession of them against her. This violation was a thing of grave sorrow and loss still felt by those who refuse to allow their memories to be washed empty so that they may be injected with a convenient and tidy history that never happened. This woman and her children had been living in peace and posed no threat to anyone. They had their troubles and squabbles as does any family. Yet, she had done nothing so terrible that warranted the evil that was to befall save that she failed to respect her defenses against others. Her children were taken and scattered abroad. Tears abounded yet the spilled blood ran more abundant than the tears. Ultimately, the plunderers would sire from her 54 unruly children to whom they taught many inhumane, destructive lessons before departing to engorge themselves of the fruits their degradations had wrought against her.
These hybrid children, born of fertile mother and brigand father, have been psychologically torn most of their lives. We are the children of a besieged Africa and a domineering unsympathetic Europe. Momma clearly loves you but all she can do is give freely to you of the little she has. This she has done but we are not satisfied with her efforts. Our uncaring father has riches and power and has made you thirsty for both. Worst, he has the form of money the world most wants. In our lowly condition which he orchestrated, we crave the paper money of his issue. We will sell momma, family, future, body and soul to acquire the paper that bears his face and images of his secular high places. Instead of protecting Momma Africa at all costs, we rush about seeking approval of a father who never will approve of us. He disciplines and upbraids us for the crimes he committed against our mother. He is most fond of us when he merely dislikes us. All other times, he despises us; the very concept of us irritates him. He thinks us ugly and uncouth. Our presence and beseeching knock at his door reminds him of a job yet unfinished. He and many others seek to take hold of Momma Africa again, this time for good. They must maneuver us that we docilely comply. Those of us who do not comply must be swept out of the way.
In the recesses of our mind, we know his intent is no good. Yet, we hide these warning thoughts even from ourselves. We cannot understand why he hates us. We go to silly extremes to appease the unappeasable in him. The superficial among us bleach their skin and in the process destroy that skin. Those who consider themselves serious and thoughtful bleach their minds.
We worry about what he thinks of us but take for granted the mother who loves us. Thus we have allowed her to become a receptacle for the discarded items and industrial dregs of Europe. Our mother has become the dustbin of the world. We pollute our very own mother with the consequences of our ignorance. We were wiser inside her womb than outside it. Life had not yet robbed us of life. Today, we are clothed but, in the worst way, are naked. Fed but, in the worst way, hungry. Educated but, in the worst way, among the worst of fools. We forever proclaim the advent of progress in Africa but all we see of true progress is its back.
We call ourselves African; but we are not as African as we think. Our perspective has been warped by one of history’s great deceptions. Being born on the continent or of black skin does not qualify one as African any more than being the child of a doctor qualify one to be a surgeon. What designates one as African is more a matter of mindset and perspective. Do you remember what happened, what was done to our mother? Do you have the perspective, whether divinely or ethically inspired, to overcome the evil that befell us; or instead, will you learn of that evil by copying it and turning it into a weapon against those weaker than you? Despite all the hardship, will you remain a creature of fundamental justice and charity such that you refuse to repeat the wickedness? Moreover, will you come to the aid of and give shelter to the distressed and the unfortunate? And will you rise to defend your mother and her other children from the next round of evil capture and servitude being planned against them. These things which call forth true justice and goodness are the best of the African spirit.
We must realize that Africa must retrieve and better utilize its inherent economic power. We do this not to seek dominion over anyone or anything but our own lives. The first step in this self-rescue mission is to recognize that this is a self-rescue. Those who seek to tutor and lecture us on governance do so not to enlighten us to our finer selves. They do so that we remain servants in need of greater servitude. Thus far, we follow their way not ours. We now listen to arch felons lecture us about the severity of our misdemeanors. Mention the wrongs with which they wronged us, they tell us that one must not raise those unpleasant reminders in polite company. They will stay that we are too stuck in the past. What we are doing is exceedingly rude because they came to educate us to a better life albeit without the things they stole from us to make their life better. It is only a thief on the prowl who insists that we forget his vocation.
If you persist in reminding them of their trespasses, this group, who says they are trying to teach us civility, will turn downright savage and barbaric. Ask Patrice Lumumba or any number of people who spoke of true African economic independence and liberty. The last person to talk African unity was hunted down like a prize hare. His once stable and prosperous nation has become an open air slave market on one side and a theatre of protracted combat on the other. Yet, we listen to those who caused this mayhem, telling ourselves how much we respect and admire them. We must be mad! Someone killed our richest brother in the street, took all his money and half his estate and released guns among his confused sons that they may kill each other and even you. They do this, yet we consider them the most enlightened of leaders and kindest of men to the point that we worship their words, buy their books and never question their actions. We view them with an induced blindness such that we see beauty in their wickedness and pray to be like them.
No sane person emulates the sociopath; yet this awful practice has become our way of life. We revere leaders of nations that have our neck underfoot. In such a precarious situation, one must proceed with caution. However, one must be sufficiently wise to distinguish between the fear and respect one gives an armed robber and what one gives to a strong but true friend. They tell you the Libyan leader was mad; that they saved Africa from him. Take a step back and trust your own ability to meter the truth. The Libyan did not threaten Africa. He only threatened their hold on Africa. Their claim does not hold even against gossamer scrutiny. They lied to us and continue to do so. While we cannot prevent another from lying to us, we should, at least, prevent the mishap of us frequenting their ideas in order to lie to ourselves.
The children of Africa who have been separated from her for centuries have even farther to go to return home. Last year, the African American buzzed with the 1619 project. This marked the 400th anniversary of slaves coming to Virginia, the first recorded instance of African bondsmen in English-speaking North America. Thousands of Black Americans came to the continent to experience some emotional but transient connection with their mother continent. Upon returning to their cunning and mean step-mother, they quickly returned to life as usual. The connection to Africa was re-severed. This connection was to function as a historic artifact; not as something to shape present identity and future action. 2019 is now over; the 400th anniversary has passed. The sentiment to reconnect to Africa has passed with it. As such, this was but a superficial undertaking devoid of the lasting power that true substance gives. A few drums, ornaments and articles of traditional clothing exchanged hands and made it to America. In the end, this project, though well intentioned, was but the sending of a postcard when a prolonged family reunion is in order.
Worst, is how the political machine fooled the Black community with talk of reparations early last year. That talk has died; its premature demise was by design not by accident. The discourse on reparations was engineered to reignite Black hope in the Democratic Party; the party wanted to help its electoral chance by solidifying Black allegiance to the party. Thus, reparations featured prominently in the early stages of the Democratic primary. Now that election season is near full throttle, talk of reparations has been gagged and told to quit squirming so that Democrats may beat Trump. The Democrats calculated that perfunctory discussion of reparations would be enough to sufficiently energize Blacks. Their cynical calculation appears right. Blacks have lined up behind them without even asking why Black hopes must always pay the costs. If the price for beating Trump is to refuse my just due then I must wonder what is the urgent justice in voting against Trump. Why should I care if he continues? Shorn of all the trickery, it seems the difference between Republicans (Trump) and mainstream Democrats on things important to Black people is the narrow difference between frigid and bitter cold.
This past week, America celebrated Martin Luther King’s (MLK) birthday. There was the risible travesty of the racist duo of Trump and his Vice President placing a wreath at the foot of the memorial for King. Superficially, the gesture would appear a good thing but it was not. It was a form of historic ridicule. If there were justice in this world, King’s ghost would have appeared to chase the two hucksters from the vicinity. The White establishment and its Black servitors believe they have bleached the essence of this revolutionary man so much so that he safely can be incorporated into their pantheon of mostly warrior heroes. America dearly loves warrior heroes because the nation’s formative history is that of unjust wars brutally won. However, they want Black heroes to be less muscular and more passive. Thus, they speak only of his nonviolence and quest for equal political rights. These are the things they want us to see. If they succeed in this, they would have swindled us into turned his humane revolutionary spirit into a tool of their militaristic conservatism. Soon, they will be selling MLK piñatas for children’s birthday parties, MLK costumes for Halloween’s celebration, and MLK beer mugs at football games.
We claim to follow King yet we admire the political and military machine he fought and that fought him. However, both impulses cannot cohabit the same mind. One must triumph over the other. King correctly stated the American government was the most dangerous entity on the planet. What he said then is even more valid now. But we adore his image yet disregard his truth. We have help his and our enemies sterilize King. As such, we have helped them lock, bolt and chain the door against us and have done so with such adorning eyes that our oppressors hate us for not even attempting to make a harder fight of their invasion of our consciousness.
All this I have written because hard times and decisions await. During the year, African leaders will be invited to summits outside the continent to discuss the future of the continent. All of these meetings are but the children of the Berlin Conference where the colonial father violated the African mother to produce the hybrid, self-conflicted offspring. Let’s be frank. Almost by definition, an international conference on Africa held outside of Africa has to be suspect. It cannot be for the good of Africa. No American government would set in Lagos a major conference on the future of America or of NATO. Such a thing would be unthinkable. Yet our leaders are called to more conferences outside the continent than they hold inside Africa to discuss our common destiny.
We better wake up. We need to utterly transform our economies and do so with great speed. If we do as the colonial fathers say, our growth will be as that of the snail in an age when half the global economy travels near the speed of light. We cannot follow free market dictates. The colonial fathers want such structures so they will be free to exploit them and Momma Africa will free to suffer. We must develop strategies that boost industrial output and employment. We must restructure ourselves so that we checkmate the ravages of desertification that destroys precious lengths of arable land on a yearly basis. Desertification pushes people from their land, forcing them to seek life elsewhere. Some crowd into already suffering rural communities. Others join the urban jobless. Not only are lives impaired, our social fabric is placed under undue strain. In addition to desertification, there are other woes killing us and our ecology. Plant and animal life is being decimated. The plastic bag is an eyesore everywhere and it pollutes land, water and air. Drugs and despair abound. Social morality is eschewed. Grab what you can grab is the dominant ethic.
These issues cannot be solved by the free market; the excesses of the free market helped cause the calamity. The same dose of the same substance cannot be both cause and cure. We have to take care of Momma Africa; she is the only mother we have. You take care of your mother not by listening to the advice of her assailants. You do so by giving her the best you have.
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