African Blood Siblings
Colored cloth catches catfish on the coast,
Beautiful terracotta of the Nok,
Ghana, Bemba, Kush, Egypt, Shona, boast!,
The blood of paragons they can not mock.
We wronged, making our diaspora.
Africa tearing from the vile trades.
Agaja Trudo, the Baga Tomba,
And Nzinga raised arms against slave raids.
When enslaved, a third would die in three years.
Underfed, overworked, be the maroon!
The Caribbeans, we martyred no fears.
Harriet Tubman’s footsteps knew the moon.
Our best risk limb, life for liberty.
Such was/is African civility.
If we must die, let their flames burn in vain.
For even burning they’ll fear our breath.
Our ancestors burned but overcame.
Freedom consoles the soul, we fear no death.
If we must die, let brown industries rise,
That Africa and Nature will adore.
To ensure both in our children’s lives,
That they’ll provide to let all children soar.
If we must die, let the bonds be broken,
But before the chains drop, lunge for their hearts.
Drag their corpses into houses smoking,
In freedom’s name we’ll tear them into parts.
Liberation today is our right.
Liberation shall be after this fight.
Our African Blood Siblings suffer,
The IMF and World Bank shove them down.
So we must stand and help them get tougher,
We’ll rise and bury the West in the ground.
O Mother Africa we respect you,
And cry eyes dry when you are a stranger,
Those who oppose Pan-Africa will rue
With you, no more will we live in danger.
So my people that I adore unite,
You’re beautiful, righteous, and full of soul.
We’ll change Africa’s borders to what’s right,
The continental coast, our land whole.
Then, let us answer to Hilaire Belloc,
“You’re wrong, for the Maxim Gun we have got!”
“You’re wrong, for the Maxim Gun we have got!”
