The Painful Watch – Racism From An Ignorant African’s Point of View

We grew up reading bits and pieces about it, colonialism. Years of schooling made us aware of another colour which invaded our spaces, bought some of our leaders and contracted some thugs among us to hunt our people for sale. Those people who loved their lands looked for safe places to hide but most were caught, restrained, chained and transported as donkeys to farms and mines and made to work like machines. That was colonialism. But we grew up to a different narrative.
People who were able to board planes and travel to these same places our forebears dreaded to be taken to—these same places many of our people were displaced to—were hailed as great men of the land. Those who lived all their lives here, schooled here … always relegated to the background! It didn’t, it doesn’t matter what you travel that far to do. You could be a nursing attendant changing diapers of the elderly (an abominable job for any man of my land), you could be a farm hand brushing the teeth of horses, you might be a cleaner or have any odd job deemed degrading in our land … it didn’t matter so long as it was abroad that you’re doing that; that is the narrative I grew up to.
I felt I’d never amount to anything in life. That was because I knew no one in this life who could send me abroad. Scholarships were available but how bold was I to apply for any? But I worked hard to pass through our education, our education deemed flawed because of many things – From irresponsible teachers to some maniacs posing as lecturers. I need to say though that there are such beautiful nurturers, teachers and lecturers on this continent. And I’m lucky to be a local breed empowered to shake few tables in my beautiful, welcoming not so perfect (which nation is on this planet?) but warm nation. But I digress.
America was always a dream for most of my friends. Those who ended up there were always bombarded with others’ needs. Calls begging for money for school fees, funerals, health care, etc. I, who have never known how to beg, also benefitted from a cousin, Eno, whose father sent her there when she was young. Eno wrote me letters when I was in Junior High School with twenty-dollar bills enclosed. When I went to the university, she sent me a hundred dollars to pay for my hall residential fees. Meanwhile, I did business with my White American sister who was everything glorious and helped me through the University.
Fast forward, we’re in 2020 … and still, some people of my land try to migrate to these places which treat people with the same colour as mine like non-entities. I say this because I know how well they treat their dogs and Black lives are treated less than that. They kill Blacks the least chance they get. But is that all? They’ve ended up destroying the relationship between those in the diaspora and those of us on the continent. So some Africans, tasting taunts from Black Americans also treat them with indifference or shun their company, making the Black population a divided one—one group forcefully sent there, another group willingly and desperately forcing their way through. They are not the same in attitude—the latter are calm; the former, difficult to comprehend. And due to the holes in this relationship, the White majority who feel superior, are able to molest and kill them any chance they get.
The world has turned into a global village so we sit in the comfort of our homes in this Corona season—some walking the streets in their hustles—watching or listening to the cruelty being meted out to Black people in America. The feeling is indescribable. For every death, you feel your soul has been assassinated. For every bit of trash coming out of the mouth of a White supremacist, you feel an urge to kill; for every bit of trash coming out of the mouth of a privileged Black person, you feel you’ve failed. Yet still, there are the brats who act out by calling the police on innocent people. Still the murderers walk their streets with guns, shooting blacks because they can—as if the streets belong to them and as if they’ll carry their streets into their graves. There are still those idiots who take to social media to insult Black people, calling them “it”. And most of them know nothing about politics. They know nothing about their people also coming to our land to land huge jobs. They’re not privy to the dirty politics which has robbed us of very progressive people like Thomas Sankara. They lack the common sense to read and become human enough to know that when they push unfairness, the result will be a generation of survivors who will face their unprepared generation and treat them worse than they’re treating their victims now. This is not prophetic; it is common sense. If I know I can die just by jogging on the street, I might as well kill as many of the people who I know can kill me, before I die. That is the logic. Unfairness and abject racism breeds defiance and deviance.
I am miles and miles away. My initial thought of schooling in the America is totally aborted. I see the Sages in our universities who speak up to the ills of my society. I don’t think of the treasured certificate which becomes an albatross, forcing you to submit; walk on eggshells for years in order to get it. I see me in a Prayer to all the gods on my land for Black safety, for strategic rebellion, for untainted freedom and for justice. I may not see that world but I’m satisfied seeing the making of that just world. Long live Africa! Long live Black Fighters! Long live our Struggles for total emancipation! Long live all humans with human hearts and thoughts!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 30, 2020. Edited by Mr. Alhassan Nantomah and Koku Dotse.