The Allegory of the Captive Lion

Listen Siblings, I come in peace,

“The doctrine that submission to violence is the best cure for violence did not hold good as between slaves and overseers. He was whipped oftener who was whipped easiest.” — Frederick Douglass

The Psychology of the Overseer remains in tact. The usual victims of Europeans are conditioned to be unprepared for assault. Though stalked, Trayvon Martin told his girlfriend he would not run. Who knows what Tawana Brawley thought as she walked down an innocent looking street. Then there are the countless Africans awaiting plea bargains mistakenly believing in their court appointed lawyers.

The following Allegory is written in the form of a short story. Following the terrible rape of Tawana Brawley by six Europeans, some of whom were in Law Enforcement, we look into another unsuspecting African Maiti and his younger Brother Mwoga. These are boys who didn’t know of Tawana Brawley, and neither received an African education. Study them and join the African Blood Siblings. I give credit for the idea of the Captive Lion to a lecture I attended by Alton H. Maddox, Jr. Subscribe, share, love.

The Allegory of the Captive Lion
By Onitaset Kumat

Few would like to imagine the horrors that Tawana Brawley suffered. Six civilized White men dragged her from the streets and drove her to an abandoned apartment, where the brutes held her down one after the other, savagely raping her dark body; showing her fifteen years in four painful days Europe’s long history.

Neither Mwoga nor his older Brother Maiti had heard of this incident. Although the rape of Tawana Brawley made national headlines in 1987, the education of young Africans hardly related to them the dangers of Europeans. Most perceived Europeans to be more charitable than Africans. It’s for this reason that Mwoga and Maiti took this ride with these strangers.

The car was a tight fit, already were there six Europeans; two of whom were women. With the two young Africans, eight people had to squeeze into five seats. Maiti was familiar with the driver, whom talked him into sitting in the adjacent front seat. With the three seats in the rear needing doubles, Mwoga, like the women, sat on a man’s lap. The man was frisky.

With Europeans educating Africans, very few don’t “go along to get along.” The five European backseat passengers giggled as Maiti tried to impress the driver with his vocabulary and progress in school; for unbeknownst to the pontificator, each sneakily groped the middle schooler. Maiti was a year in college, studying a subject ‘to help the African race’ and believed that he owed the driver for his matriculation into University. It’s only when he questioned the silent tears running down Mwoga’s face that the unimpressed driver showed his true colors, stretching across to slap the confused Maiti in the face.

“Nigger–you should not have looked back.”

Maiti was stunned by the slap and the language. To Maiti, the driver valued him as a scholar–or so he misjudged by past charities rather than natures. At a loss at what to say, Maiti simply demanded to be let out–the car laughed.

“Do it” said the driver to the other Europeans suddenly triggering a series of horrid, wrenching screams from Mwoga. The women and men held the young boy down, fighting him with the malicious intent to sodomize the child. Maiti detecting as much stood up in his chair to address the assault on his brother. In the struggle, police lights flashed and all of the passengers took their seats, though Mwoga hastily moved to sit in the front with his brother.

While the officers were proceeding to the vehicle, Maiti breathe a sigh of relief. Though the driver had nearly allowed the rape of his Brother, Maiti was willing to forgive him; their friendship was putting him through school he remembered.

“What seems to be the problem?” asked the driver of the officer.

“You tell me. You have eight people in this vehicle,” now putting his flashlight on each face, “and by the looks of it there had been a fight here.”

“No fight, sir.” The interrogation proceeded along this vein. The two Europeans spoke and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Eventually the two chatted as though long time friends and there was no mention of Mwoga’s tears or the bruises on the Europeans: the untrained ear heard mention of sports, family, religion but not the incident. However something must have been said, for the officer asked Maiti out of the car and asked him a most peculiar question:

“So you think that you can protect your Brother?”

The officer then mightily struck Maiti across the head with his baton, breaking his frail, loose neck, ending his life immediately. He fell onto the floor, his skull cracking on impact. To suffer violence was furthest from his mind so like many Africans, he died from unpreparedness.

The two officers then looked onto Mwoga and instructed him into the backseat. Mwoga went along. The six European passengers then proceeded to mistreat the boy in every fashion. The officers watched the ugly sodomy for a moment, then went on their ways.

What was most important was what followed.

As the two officers loaded Maiti into their car, one asked of the Murderer what Mwoga would do. The Murderer answered “Nothing.” He then enunciated Philosophically for his companion: “If you cage and whip a Lion enough, that Lion will humiliate itself for you; “King of the Jungle” notwithstanding. So is it with Africans. Yes, they are “Kings of Kings” and “Queens of Queens” but caged and whipped this long, they will suffer all sorts of humiliation. I would never whip an Organized African, just as I would never whip a Free Lion; but those Niggers had been Dis-Organized and Mis-Organized, and as long as they remain so, they shall be our victims.”

Mwoga and Maiti were not the only victims of disorganization. Neither ever saw their parents, cousins, aunts and uncles, who dependent on their Oppressor’s for the investigation were made to forget the deceased. More boys and girls had been murdered, raped, kidnapped and enslaved in like fashion. Every last one of whom belonged to the Dis-Organized and Mis-Organized just as their parents. No victim had been a Wild Lion, for no one is so stupid to Whip a Wild Lion. Each to suffer this cruel fate had been accepting of their cage. Maiti had thought it a privilege to study with Europeans, and misguidedly fancied he could help Africans through their lessons; dead, his parents welcomed the driver and his murderer into their home. These are not Organized Africans but Captive Lions.

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