The Chant of the African (pt 2)

                                             With your bare hands, you lift coals of fire

You dare not entertain timidity and laziness.

Your promises to keep your skin as lovely as it is something promises you a leave.

Why speak pain in the language and actions of the unseen

The unseen sets standards for your actions

 

Your fist rises above your head with courage in the open

In your closet “they think am a fool” is your favorite quote

Singing songs of the bravest, closing eyes to the pain

Finally opening them to a new identity

Mama Africa, your children no longer chant for possibilities.

They chant for food filled with hatred. They cry when they ought to smile.

Short Story: After writing the second part, a friend of mine saw it, I read it to her with the aim of her determining the inspiration behind the work but she was unable to. She only understood it from a point of appreciation and critiquing the qualities of Africa, though they fall in line, my inspiration was borne out of the terror of seeing Africa go down by the effect of the corona. 

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