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| A picture of Hector Pieterson. Short by Apartheid police during the Soweto Uprising |
In the days of the Old new age
People: sons of Noah of Adam
Found themselves a thoughtful greedy
But lazy people of power
For muscle and profit
They saw it fit, wise and righteous
To separate, look down and mark us
The sons of Cush son of Ham, son of Adam;
They took Canaan, our brother’s curse
Married it with our father’s gift
Our mark, our blessing our pride
The sons of Gog and Magog stiffened their necks away
From the truth, the light and the sun
And in front of God, angels man and devil
Took away our pride, our knowledge
Our history our, dignity and our humanity.
Our children no longer know who they are
Man’s science reminds them
Man’s mind decides against what is.
They the sons of Adam our father
Made us forget that we are sons of the first kings and queens of
all living man.
We were leached, our minds put away and our muscles enslaved to the will of our brothers the Japhites.
They took us, our best to work in their lands,
In their houses we dangled our nakedness
Whipped to tartars our backs were
Drilled to phi-dogs our minds were...
A dead people we were.
Our land Africa taken
Our inheritance stolen
We were leached, our minds put away and our muscles enslaved to the will of our brothers the Japhites.
They took us, our best to work in their lands,
In their houses we dangled our nakedness
Whipped to tartars our backs were
Drilled to phi-dogs our minds were...
A dead people we were.
Our land Africa taken
Our inheritance stolen
We are the old people,
The sons of Cush
Builders of the first Kingdoms among man,
Molders of the first and greatest of Empires;
We built Babel,
We built both Meroe and Egypt
Egypt the land of Ham is full of us
For it is our fatherland
Ethiopia is full of us
For it is our prince,
The main House
The House of Cush;
A refuge to the sons of Abraham son, of Shem son of Noah, the
last of Adam;
In this house lies Hail Selassie; last of the house of Judah
But all these has been made nothing,
Our memory of it is snatched away and given to those of white
skin
The Pynx stands a dump nose less witness of our times
And Nubia the source of all men’s gods or gold but One,
Remains silenced;
The source of all knowledge learned from both God and Daemons bloated out,
The source of all knowledge learned from both God and Daemons bloated out,
Our history no longer ours.
And our knowledge, glory mark and pride
A mockery to us.
We are a people left loveless
A people whose essence, humanity the image of God is no longer
known.
Animals we are
They made it.
Yet today they are brave enough to stand up, point at us and
Laugh their shameless hearts out as if they have had no hand
In this monster’s creation;
Behavior modification well applied rarely fails.
We have had only
250 years to reclaim 7000 years of who we are
And because of only two tumbles
They today stand and mock us the sons of Cush.
A house punished for no curse of their own but whose sin is to the eye of man being Black; our gift, our mark, our pride.
And because of only two tumbles
They today stand and mock us the sons of Cush.
A house punished for no curse of their own but whose sin is to the eye of man being Black; our gift, our mark, our pride.
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