They tell me that I am a descendant of Arabs & Greeks,
They tell me look at your caramel brown skin,
You are mixed.
Then they come back and tell me that from my loins came humanity,
They dig to find the oldest human skeletons in my land,
They dig to find mitochondrial eve,
They tell me 85% of humanity came from her,
So tell me, how does the mother come from the child?
They tell me civilisation in your land came from across the sea,
But tell me I was the first to cultivate land,
So tell me, how does the mother come from the child? They tell me that modern man migrated from Africa,
But tell me I was civilised by my Arab brothers & sisters, They tell me that I am a Semite,
They classify my people into Bantu & Nilotes,
They forget their history books & lie,
Contradicting themselves at every turn,
Doctoring my people‘s knowledge,
Inserting false narratives,
Divide & Conquer,
After all history is written by the victor,
They tell me that my curls falling loose is a sign of my mix,
Of imagined foreigners who may have invaded my lands,
But turn around to call me the land of origin,
So tell me, how does the mother come from the child?
My caramel brown skin,
My beautiful loose curls,
My curved lips,
Are just as black as my land,
And If you cut me I don’t just bleed red,
I bleed black, yellow, green,
To signify that thing,
That blackness sits in a spectrum,
Of all shades in between,
So tell me, how does the mother come from the child?
My beautiful loose curls,
My curved lips,
Are just as black as my land,
And if you cut me I don’t just bleed red,
I bleed black, yellow, green,
To signify that thing,
That blackness sits in a spectrum,
Of all shades in between,
And so no, the mother did not come from the child,
We are of each other, Yes.
But my origin stays true to the land that I walk,
That of my ancestors,
Who sacrificed so much,
And in their legacy I walk,
Holding my head up high,
Singing songs of unity & peace for Mama Africa.
