A poem written by Daodu Rachael who's a student of the university of Benin studying metal work technology,she has a passion for acting and writing.And her best friend is the Holy spirit.
I was born into a world of borrowed arts
Where English is the language spoken daily
While we swallowed our native tongue for dessert.
There was no space for the truth to the young generations.
It was termed old-fashioned which was to be value-fashioned.
Yesterday the wave of civilization swept,
Carrying away the values our ancestors cherished,kept and left.
They have died-in heaven they weep;
For they know not heaven but the spirit world.
Heaven is for the Whiteman:
Who does not know the sweetness of yam and palm oil;
Who have tossed us into darkness with light;
Who have slapped away our nakedness with his.
Hell is for the Blackman;
Created by the Whiteman
To contain our blackness - our freedom.
Then he gives us a hope of heaven - our enslavement.
I am not making sense, no?
How would I? The world no longer makes sense;
And you praise her for that - her nonsense.
We are on the precipice between what we know and don't know.
What is our culture?
What is our heritage?
Who knows? Who really does?
When we no longer know who we are.
It's self-respect, it's pride
When we take it as a custom
When we embrace it as a lifestyle
When we still make good reference to our history and backgrounds.
When it's part of it.
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