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THINK BLACK, DEAR BLACK CHILD

Every day, I walk this messy terrain delicately, with the conscious mindedness of a tigress. Some heroes paid certain prices with their sweat and blood. Mothers in the FAITH! Fathers in the FIGHT!!

I will teach my fathers’ valour to my children, I will scream of my mothers’ bravery on the towers. I will carve their conquests on marbles for my lineage to learn.

African child, you have a root! Your fathers had a faith and an essence. Your culture is rich and solid; age long values and attendant pride of place. When they approach you with fake stones on a platter, must you buy because you can afford? You are quick to cast a stone and aspersion on everything your fathers built with sweat and pride! The reason you do this is simple: you lack depth.

Before the ports became a passage, before the deserts received a gate, my fathers had their faith and my mothers worshiped. What changed? How come my fathers’ faith is suddenly evil and my mothers’ devotion painted ‘black’ and therefore backward?

Improve on your mother’s medicine, build on your father’s inventions. Do not wallow, simply rise. Do not bow, simply engage.

Wear your badge with pride. Think black, dear black person.

Black is bold, black is rich and black is beautiful.

Love and Light

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