REBIRTH (Bringing down 'Jericho Walls')

The words in Claude McKay's famous sonnet, 'If we must die', has managed to disturb the seeming quietness that existed in my heart till now.

If we must die, let it not be like hogs

Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,

While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,

Making their mock at our accursèd lot.

If we must die, O let us nobly die,

So that our precious blood may not be shed

In vain; then even the monsters we defy

Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!

O kinsmen! we must meet the common foe!

Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,

And for their thousand blows deal one death-blow!

What though before us lies the open grave?

Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,

Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

Those last two lines keep ringing and ringing in my thoughts. I bow my head now in shame, because I feel I have not done enough, or said enough, or written enough. I have not made enough noise. Now I look back at the words of Malcolm X; "If you want something, you had better make some noise", and I feel even more ashamed that I got this far before seeing all I am seeing now. Our existence today as Africans cannot be detached from the existence of Black-Americans out there. I must admit, before recently, I never really felt a part of them as they mostly feel a part of us. In my eyes, they were Americans. Now something is happening to me, that I can only share. A sudden awareness of black history and how it has shaped African society today, as well as the African-American society. I thank the Lord I decided to major in English Literature. I now know I am not crazy. I was meant to get to this point where my eyes are being opened to heart-wrenching realities that existed and still exists, in the Black Diaspora and in Africa. 

When I think back to the last two lines of Mckay's 'If we must die', I don't envision violence, no. Rather I itch to call out to young African writers like myself to fight, by channeling the voices of our people through the pen and unto paper. I call out to them to make noise, so much noise, the 'Jericho Walls' that have been put up after centuries of White hegemony and supremacy, will crumble! We can't stay silent. We just can't. The plague - our plight itself will come searching for the African/Black writer, whether he/she likes it or not, as it is in my case. So we have no choice. We cannot choose to stay silent. 

Revolutions have been sparked off by heroes and heroines before us - 

There are even more names than these. And in our times, we have those ahead of us; Kofi Anyidoho, Ama Atta- Aidoo, Kojo Laing, Kofi Awoonor, Mawuli Adzei, other great Ghanaians and Africans. They carry our voices, and it makes me proud, but they are not ageing backwards! I look at myself, then turn around to look at other writers my age, or close to my age, and I want to believe we can keep this going. I want to believe we can make the necessary noise to effect changes in our world. There is so much to say, with so much to learn from. An immense store of inspiration that lies in wait for those who will seek for it, or like me, those who will chance upon it. We have been given much, but I wonder, do our people even expect anything? I feel like we have moved into an era where oppression is silent, camouflaged. Slavery comes in different shades. The black man's mind still has a long way to go. Progress has been made, of course. But it is not a rose-garden scene yet. Not at all. Most lay black men, and I'm afraid to say, still feel inferior. They feel beneath the European or the American. It is an Oburoni fever that needs to break. Everything Western has got to be good and everything local is not or for the poor. The poor eat the Tugyimi rice, and the rich eat the perfumed, long grain, imported rice. 

"Anytime you find someone more successful than you are, especially when you're both engaged in the same business - you know they're doing something you aren't" This was said by Malcolm X in his autobiography. The struggle now, I believe is, especially here in Africa, is not so much against the Western world, at least not directly. It is against some of our political leaders, who although tag themselves as the 'elite' of our societies, are modern day 'Uncle Toms' who are only concerned about their personal well-being and quest to keep a hold on power as long as possible. My little knowledge thus far in issues of conflict in Africa in the political science classes I have taken, plus the little I have read, has made me aware of the fact that, there are instances more often than not, when western hegemonic states will single-handedly fund a particular side in a conflict just for exploitative purposes. It boils down to the same thing. Now our leaders betray us and the sting of it leaves us too bitter for our own good. We feel so sick of it all, all the corruption wrapped in the coat of democracy, which in itself is a part of our still very colonized everyday living. 

Malcolm X, though long gone, 48 years to be precise, has left a challenge to those of us here at the other side, we who were left as remnants of what was. We who are the very root, yet ones who have forgotten the story before it all begun. We, 'the root', have sadly misplaced ourselves, forgotten ourselves, betrayed ourselves, willingly given up ourselves. It's a shame. Why were they able to cause drastic changes, Marcus Garvey, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X Shabazz, our very own Kwame Nkrumah? It was because they did something we are clearly not doing. We are not making the noise! 

I feel different. My mindset has been knocked over and thoroughly changed. It's a refreshing emergence from the smoky ignorance I was stuck in before. I realise now, I've found a voice that was not there before. I realise now, I have just experienced a rebirth that has motivated me to team up with others like me, to make some noise!! And surely, we will.