I bleed for Afrika

My Afrika, my home
When I look at my leaders
Leaders of the present generation
Promising to lead me to the once the mighty Garden of Eden
Land of Milk and honey
With the purest of hearts
And most gullible expectations
I looked up to them and hoped that they will lead me there

My Afrika, my dream
The same dream of African sovereignty that early leaders had
Ngungunyane, Shaka Zulu, Yaa Asantewa, Nzinga, Hailee Selassie
Retaliated and bled for for my home
Failure was not an option
They lost their lives, fighting battles
And wars where they clearly stood no chance
My home eventually was taken away from me

My Afrika, my agony
As I turned my heard
My home had become the property of foreign men
I was not recognised as a citizen of my own soil
I was slave in my home, and could run to no other
My home was divided and shared by foreigners in a foreign land unknown to me
My blood was more common to see than water
My wounds became a common flower to decorate ethnicity
I worked the land
And the lands of foreign men
If I didn’t work for no pay
My hands would be amputated
And legs removed if I was not killed
I was given a bible
And taught to pray, believe and hope for riches in heaven
Because my future on earth was slavery
I was told that I cannot think for myself
Because my mental capacity was inferior

My Afrika , my Hope
Hope returned when a new generation of leaders emerged
Nkwame Nkurumah, Jomo Kenyatta, Sefako Makgatho, Patrice Lumumba, Julius Nyerere
Came to life
Their quest for me to be a part of humanity gave me hope
Their intellectual freedom felt like home

My hope was soon short-lived when they fought against one another
One brother raised guns at another
They forgot about my sorrows
They forgot about the pains of their forefathers
Their hunger for power
Lust for women
Love for money
Made them become puppets in the hands of foreign men
I live in the the land of milk and honey
Diamonds are in my door step
I walk on Gold and platinum
Coltan is my inheritance
And oil my natural resource

My Afrika, My Pride
I am a young product of Afrika
Living in a new generation of slavery in my home
My brothers, my sisters die of starvation
Yet, my home grows chocolate, coffee and food that is extracted to feed elite few
My mothers, my fathers lose their dignity from poverty
Yet, my home is the source of mineral wealth that is extracted to enrich foreign men
While my countrymen drown in the Mediterranean
To subject themselves to slavery,
Which seems like a better option than the never-ending conflicts caused by my leaders
Mothers have cried, wept and pleaded for peace
After all, they are the ones to suffer most
Young children are raped, taught to kill and loot what does not belong to them
They are given guns to fight the battles of grown men that vowed to protect them and their futures

My Afrika
Where have we gone wrong?
When will this end?
Where are the young people?
Who will guarantee our future?

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