An African child’s take on Racism
Am still young and I don’t know much but atleast I know what’s right. I wasn’t fixed into a system of brutality and injustice like my brothers and sisters but am not to far behind to know the history of our people.There is nothing much people expect us as Africans to say because we have never felt the pain first hand neither have we ever truly seen the outcomes and I respect that. We were the ones the historians never established. We were left to tell the stories of the heroes who never quite often made it back but even so, our ancestral blood is unmistakably the same.
Our grandparents passed on generations of folk tales but never ones of the suffering of our race. The topic of racism was one which was unspoken because to us all whites are angels. The tales where of the creations of our tribes consisting of the countless beliefs and the opening of the heavens. There are tales of the white settlers too, the simple colonization and the fight for independence but never once did I hear the stories of the after life. Maybe our ancestors too were fighting it first hand. I still remember the fascination we as children had when we saw a white person or when we had them speak. I guess that’s one of the reasons we turned our backs on black Americans when they needed a home to call an origin. But nevertheless we admired you.
As an African child, I grew never fully understanding the concept of a goodbye. Not the one which is eternal but rather the one where change was needed to move on. I would wish away my cousins as they left to America for reasons still unknown to me. The goodbye wasn’t the one of see you soon but instead the one carrying a pattern to be long forgotten and new rush of indifference. They would leave and never truly want to come back and I always wondered why but that didn’t matter because even I thought I would leave despite the circumstances which were never realistic for me to go. This isn’t a story of my appearance or view of America which is still crucial in my eyes but one for you to understand my stand for the recurring racism in the world. For that you must see it in my eyes. You must bear it in an African’s eyes.
I’ve been told change is coming. Change for a better economy with an equal system and fair equality. One where the black race in America will raise there hands and march forward and where senseless deaths won’t be existent. Slowly and surely they say but can I ask? How far will the change reach? Will it touch the souls of all the races far yet to be born? Will it ensemble in all the armies surfacing else way or will it be silenced in the hearts and cries of a black child in another century yearning to be heard. Will you teach the cries and struggles to the black race in Africa or that doesn’t concern us? I hope the mishaps of those will be told to our grandchildren in order to equip them with your morals and pace them for the inner world and soon yet to be an endless domination. For we will be able to speak up and support you. Surely I hope the change reaches us.
I will end this by saying, I don’t know much but at least I know what is right. Hopefully in another world the children we give birth to won’t have to to fight racism because it won’t be there anymore but rather instead it will turn into a folktale we too will tell our grandchildren for we are conquerors.