UNAPOLOGETIC
There are many parts to my identity, but my deep Ghanaian roots and blackness resounds.
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I am reminiscing of the glow of the red African sands that are the grounds of my parents, grandparents and their parents before them. Grounds that witness the crowning of royalty, the innovative labours of a community, the businessmen and women, the bustling movement of trotros and sellers on the streets. The aroma of awaakye and meat in the morning, the pounding of yam and fufu in the day, the crackling fires of kebabs at night. In the distance, the barefoot steps of the adwoa dancers and the beating of the tribal drums, the crisp and dynamic sounds of our music in the airwaves that fuels every part of your body to dance and vibe to, the vibrant colours of our cloths, the beads that so gently ride our hips and waist, the glow of the golden sun enriching our deep melanin skin, the wind carrying the prayers and hymns of the devout churches and mosques and the high pitch voices of the children in their classes singing their memory songs.
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It also tells the tales of the brutality of the white foreigners, slave masters and white saviours who came to steal our lands, our gold and our resources. Blinding us with meaningless trinkets and useless vanities, further driving the hate between tribes, turning brother against brother. They enslaved our bodies, our minds! They devalued who we were, what we possessed.... And we believed them! They robbed us of our identity, and last remains of dignity- turning what they deemed "savages" into "respectable men and women of civilized society", defaming and mocking our beauty, parading us like animals in a zoo, stealing our purity for exotic whims and fantasies, breaking apart our communities and designating borders without consultation, without even hearing our stories, understanding our distinctions!
We had to fight for the right to be free and independent within our own lands! To then deepen the wound by auctioning us like cattle to the highest bidder at prices that wouldn't even make it at the dollar store. They take and they take and leave more holes, more death, more corruption, more bondage that we as a continent continue to fight and break through to this very day.
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So we sailed away to promise lands; the Americas, and like the Israelites fleeing to Egypt, we find ourselves ensnared once more in the systemic binds of racism. Where the colour of your skin is more dangerous than a firing gun. We are provoked and slaughtered like pigs by waves of violence from police brutality to the jealous and deprived wars of our own kin. When we are not targeted for sport, we are undermined in classrooms & boardrooms. Excluded from conversations and plans meant for us, like hello have they not heard the infamous words “nothing for us without us?!” Belittled and cast aside in doctor offices, showrooms and runways. We sit amongst societies that seemingly do not want to understand the very real social factors and plights that weigh on those of colour; maybe we don't belong here, maybe we should go back.
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We are not whiners nor complainers, we are not a hashtag or an angry mob, we are not just for entertainment, style and a badge of coolness to put on and take off whenever it’s suited. We are people, strong, resilient people, full of culture, presence, ideas, innovations, people that have literally built and equipped the very lands the western worlds thrive on. And I am tired of being sick and tired of the mistreatment of my people, of carrying the burden that I have to work twice as hard as others to attain even half, to be judged before I even utter a word, to think about the conversations my husband and I have to have with our sons to be careful in the streets, to play nice with authorities, keep your hands up and talking to a minimum, run.. No don't run.. You will look suspicious because God forbid, if you do die, there will be no justice until millions on social media have to cry out and not because the laws written pertain to you or are there to save you. To our daughters, we repeatedly have to sing songs of praise of how beautiful you are and not just empty compliments that say you are " pretty for a black girl or an African or exotic", that you are intelligent and your beauty is more than just the swaying of your hips, fullness of your breasts, but the presence you carry, the power and wisdom from your lips.
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I have resolved to carry a new burden, one that makes me unapologetically black and proud. A burden to rise that will uplift my people. To create ways and break the wheel, to not fit in the boxes society sets out for me limited by their implicit bias, discrimination and prejudice but to constantly challenge their standards of the black individual, and like Nina Simone states: " my job is to make them, my own people, curious enough, persuade them by hook or crook, to get more aware of themselves and where they came from and bring it out, in my own words:
To see Africa on the horizon; lifted by the wings of the diaspora and the beating hearts of the African people.
