Listen Siblings, I come in peace,
“I started with this idea in my head, There’s two things I’ve got a right to, and these are, Death or Liberty — one or the other I mean to have.” — Harriet Tubman
Unfortunately, we are in bondage: we can not prosper in bondage. Yet, prosperity is our due. Therefore, each of us must become sacrificial. Thus the paradigm remains: Liberty or Liberty.
I wrote the following Fable to touch hearts. Spread the Fable. It relies upon a nature we no longer know: the conflict between the Crocodile and the Wildebeest. Here’s a sufficient reminder:
Like European people, the Crocodile only mocks hiding; yet like African people, the Wildebeest only mocks resisting. The following fable relates the tale of a Wildebeest which intelligently resisted and what rewards fell to its progeny.
Read it, share it, and follow my writings. When finished, write the ABS about getting serious with building for our people by helping to build an African Blood Siblings Community Center. Subscribe, share, love.
The Bravest Wildebeest
By Onitaset Kumat
I am named Onitaset Kumat, but a long time ago, I went by a different name.
When I was much younger, I lived life as a vocal Wildebeest. At that age, as I do here now, I shouted the most intelligent ideas of racial progress. For then, as today, I lived when racial progress was advantageous. As our people have enemies today known as Occidentals, so too did the Wildebeest have “Occidentals:” what is now known as “Crocodiles”; and like with today’s Occidental, interacting with a Crocodile was a life-threatening risk. For these Crocodiles would lounge in the local watering hole, and though our people knew the risk of interaction, we lowered our heads and begged these predators for water. Without a doubt our thirst was often appeased, but most times we lost our friends and in the conditions of predation, no community can prosper.
But no matter my lifetime, I always strive to intelligently do good. So one day I spoke, “A watering hole is just a large hole. If we all dig together where the Crocodiles can not reach, we can separate from the Crocodiles and prosper on rain water.”
I spoke and Siblings heard. “It’s an intelligent idea” most opined. But very few listened. It seems much easier to ask the Crocodile for water than to take a stand against them.
So I had my debates and the Crocodiles had their dinner.
Until finally I earned a name.
Without waiting for a racial consensus, thirteen of us, “the Brave Wildebeests,” dug a hole for the race.
Our progress is measured. In Tanzania there exists a large unmolested settlement of Wildebeests. At the bottom of its core, a Wildebeest-made watering hole, thirteen of “the Brave Wildebeests” lie. Below the other twelve is my old form, named, “The Bravest Wildebeest.”
It only takes the commitment of a few, to change the destiny of a race.