Truth telling: Corruption is not an African sport.

Corruption is not an African sport.

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Time to read those receipts 🧾🍵 When companies like Toys R’ Us & Sears go down & lay off thousands of workers and steal their promised severance pay, people think it’s “internet kills brick + mortar.” . That’s not the full story. . CEOs+boards load these co’s w/ debt to enrich themselves, tank them, & leave workers in the cold w/o promised severance. . If that’s not bad enough, it looks like Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin did exactly this with his old college roommate (literally) - he served went on the Sears board as his roomie served as CEO. . Together, they fired a *quarter million people* in a debt scheme that looks awfully self-dealing. . We want to get to the bottom of it. 🧾

A post shared by Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (@aoc) on May 24, 2019 at 7:37am PDT

Demystifying our systems of governance: Part I

When we as everyday country people find out about the deep-rooted political ills in our high places and politics, we (at least my friends and I) tend to feel helpless, overwhelmed, or inadequate and resort to pontificating, while some others take to social media to create entertaining memes that go viral, instead of addressing and challenging these serious, tragic systemic issues that continue to entrench us (and our generations unborn) deeper into poverty. Unfortunately, this passive take and absense of collective action against oppression (and oppressive systems) is a trend, and I dare say a knowledge gap and enabler of a system that continues to fail us, while counting on our indifference to thrive. The reality is that the majority of our country people continue to languish in abject poverty, while some of us inadvertently refuse to acknowledge and wield the privileges, power and responsibilities that we have. Why are we here? How has this political apathy contributed to the present-day Babylon that we have found ourselves in, and most importantly whose interests are being stoked in this zero-sum game? I would be curious to know the silent investors in our sustained oppression, and find ways to contribute to dismantling the divide for the collective.

Homework: Research and acquire some knowledge. Read about common people's history and struggle, so you can learn about yours(elf). Stay focused, come back and tell me what you find.

I Have A Dream Of An Africa by LLM Mbatha

I have a dream of an Africa

A united Africa! 

Self sustaining and self-reliant

Able to produce 

Anything out of nothing

And trade within her-self

And with the world at large

A proud Africa 

Of a civilizing people

Like our Egyptian, and

Olmec ancestors…

I dream of an Africa that 

Patrice Lumumba died for

Kwame Nkrumah stood up for 

Nelson Mandela paid dearly for

An Africa of Haile Selasie I

An Africa of GIANTS

Where men are great, proud and dignified

An Africa of Cleopatra, Maqeda, Nzingha and Nyamazana

An Africa without genocide, starvation, or disease

An Africa, without dictators! 

A free Africa

Taking on the driver’s seat 

Teaching without enslaving

To show the world it’s possible! 

No refugees because

All the Children belong! 

An Africa, a Mother Land

Where an elephant 

Feeds from the Elephant Tree

And the gorilla roams free

And the lion goes to hunt

If he wants

Because God loved him to! 

An Africa that

Bhambatha (ka Mancinza) 

Sobukwe (Robert) 

Fanon (Frantz) 

Biko (Steve) 

X (Malcolm) 

Garvey (Marcus) 

And Douglas (Frederick) 

Would look at and smile about

I have a dream of an Africa

But from this one, I shall not wake

Because I dream standing up

My eyes looking out

My arms open wide

To the ones, mad enough, to dream the same 

No Coffin, No Grave by Jared Angira

He was buried without a coffin
without a grave
the scavengers performed the post-mortem
in the open mortuary
5 without sterilized knives
in front of the night club

stuttering rifles put up
the gun salute of the day
that was a state burial anyway
10 the car knelt
the red plate wept, wrapped itself in blood its master’s

the diary revealed to the sea
the rain anchored there at last
isn’t our flag red, black, and white?
15 so he wrapped himself well

who could signal yellow
when we had to leave politics to the experts
and brood on books
brood on hunger
20 and schoolgirls
grumble under the black pot
sleep under torn mosquito net
and let lice lick our intestines
the lord of the bar, money speaks madam
25 woman magnet, money speaks madam
we only cover the stinking darkness
of the cave of our mouths
and ask our father who is in hell to judge him
the quick and the good

30 Well, his dairy, submarine of the Third World War
showed he wished
to be buried in a gold-laden coffin
like a VIP
under the jacaranda tree beside his palace
35 a shelter for his grave
and much beer for the funeral party

anyway one noisy pupil suggested we bring
tractors and plough the land.

No Coffin, No Grave - Jared Angira

The mesh by Kwesi Brew

We have come to the crossroads
And I must either leave or come with you.
I lingered over the choice
But in the darkness of my doubts
You lifted the lamp of love
And I saw in ur face
The road that I should take.


I find this poem very refreshing, especially because it's short and in simple English.
Enjoy.

Lily by Niyi Osundare

How does one count

The teeth of a laughing lily

Burrow through

The passion of its petals

Pluck every bullet

In the barrel of its pistil

Flick its filament

Which turns on the sun

Like a blooming bulb

Dance through the brown

Dentistry of its drought

Slice the air

With the green sword

Of its leaves. . .

Rinsed by the rain

Its laughter glistens like a vow

Haughticulturally

Present

Lament of the Flutes by Christopher Okigbo

TIDEWASH……Memories

fold-over-fold free-furrow

mingling old tunes with new.

Tidewash.....Ride me

memories, astride on firm

saddle, wreathed with white

lillies & roses of blood.....



Sing to the rustic flute:

Sing a new note...



Where are the Maytime flowers,

where the roses? What will the

Watermaid bring at sundown,

a garland? A handful of tears?

Sing to the rustic flute:

Sing a new note...



Comes Dawn

gasping thro worn lungs,

Day breathes,

panting like torn horse -



We follow the wind to the fields

Bruising grass leafblade and corn...



Sundown: I draw in my egg head.

Night falls

smearing sore bruises with Sloan's

boring new holes in old sheets -



We hear them, the talkative pines,

And nightbirds and woodnymphs afar off ...



Shall I answer their call,

creep on my underself

out of my snug hole, out of my shell

to the rocks and the fringe for cleansing?

Shall I offer to Idoto

my sandhouse and bones,

then write no more snow-patch?



Sing to the rustic flute.

Sing a new note.