Every shit in this world gives me the urge to write.
Well, not everything. I don’t want to write about mundane stuff like my 15k mattress that I suddenly no longer want to talk about.
In my heart lies poetry and feminism seats at her throne in my soul.
Sometimes I wake up with a tear on my left eye. An unconscious tear falls through my left cheek and I could become pensive. I want to explore that. I want to know if you experience that and if it’s something we should theorize.
Whenever I hear the chu chu chu of the birds every morning, I fall in love and I want to describe to you how that feels. I want to narrate the story of my grandmother who told me the birds sang to her. They delivered messages from her first-born daughter to her every morning. Those were beautiful mornings.
I want to write to you about the place where I live, our shopkeeper, who is too generous I think his shop might close soon. I want to write about this novel place where parties happen on the streets from Thursday to Sunday. Yes, we are the ones with the sex party too. Crazy place with a nail bar, they nail it. Everyone is always drunk, high, getting high, looking for a blunt. It’s Awesome here I tell you.
I want to tell you about the experience here mingling with people from different places in Mother Africa. The conversations we have about Africa uniting and decolonizing our minds- The Art and Literature we are making about black power and how we are changing the African narrative.
I want to write about the mushrooms rising all around Africa. The revolutions happening within us and all around us. I want to tell you that the children of Abyssinia are waking up spiritually and that we are beginning to go back to our roots.
I want us to talk about Black supremacy and decolonizing our minds from this white crap that we have been fed ever since we were young. I want us to take back our rightful place in this world as the origin of humanity. I want us to give the middle finger to the white man and his fucking institutions, school, religion, the brutal police, which are just slavery and rape, and all this fuckery.
I want to write about Ancient Kemet and the gods of Africa before the Whiteman colonized us. About the energy that runs from the earth, into the trees, the rivers and us, and then without to the universe. I want us to discuss spirituality and rather than follow dogma and religion, tap into something bigger than us, something that is within us- flowing out from within to the rest of the population to the universe.
I want you to comment and tell me what you think. I want us to discuss the movements of the earth and the planets and feel these movements around us that we no longer hear. I want us to learn about our connections to the universe. The universe, not just the earth. The connection we that humans have to the rest of the universe.
I want to write about how Africa and other native people- The Native Americans, The Aboriginals, got robbed of our spirituality by White people. How we have been deceived into destroying our spirituality by clearing our forests and replacing that with buildings, polluting the environment, and rapidly killing our mothers.
The more we clear down our natural vegetation, the more we cut off our spiritual link. We are turning less spiritual every day, even as we erect churches everywhere, they have no meaning if we are only shifting from caring people to a hurtless generation of monsters. Imagine if our country becomes like those developed countries who have turned into fake trees just to have shade in the streets. Yuck.
I want to write about women and forward the feminist agenda. If you haven’t yet subscribed to the culture, you got to ask yourself just what kind of society you want for the women around you because that extends to the rest of us.
Our society has been lacking female energy for a long time.
With just the male energy in charge of us, we will gear towards straight lines and corners. Life cannot be complete without circles and curves. And what is life but cycles and curves? These shapes combined; you get the Fibonacci’s sequence. (Fibonacci probably didn’t invent this. Probably Egyptian). And that is the natural pattern of life which is also the golden ratio of creation.
If you look back to ancient Egypt, you will find that Kemet and other African societies respected women. Ancient societies respected the role of women in society. Don’t be deceived that the African woman is the silent one who slaves for her husband, and her family only and whose continuous sacrifice is always honored.
No. In ancient times, women led the spiritual matters of their communities. We were trusted to connect our communities with mother earth because of that obvious connection. Women led their communities in battle. They fought side by side with their men and together and protected their communities.
That togetherness in taking care of our society is what I want to preach to you. Remember, straight lines, corners together with circles and curves.
And that’s what feminism is all about. And it’s not un African. Feminism is as African as every other thing that exists in this world. Except for white people, White people are from Mars. Europeans.
I want to write. I want to write.
I want to write poetry so deep you will feel like I am crawling on the small of your back. I want to make love your eyes and connect with your nerves.
These are just some of the many things I want to write about.