07/10/2017
Make no mistake, my fight is not against any race
I don't fight the whites, Chinese or Indians
My fight is against the circumstances my race faces
I don't fight to change history, it is a record of things gone by
I fight to write the history of my time and it will be written
With sweat and blood if need be, but it will be written
I will fight until the mind of the black man is set free
I will fight until my brothers and sisters who work in the filling stations are free.
Until they stop rushing to help a white man who has just arrived when we been waiting for 30 minutes
I will fight until the workers in our banks and post offices tell the white man that he too needs to wait his turn in the queue.
Don't expect me to fight like Martin Luther, Mandela or Malcolm X.
My fight is informed. I saw how they fought and what you did to them.
My fight is different. It is informed and fueled by time spent reading. Reading the history you wrote; Of the massacres unpublished. The things you wanted to hide.
My fight is not borne out of anger, but the need to see my race survive. A longing for dignity and respect. My fight is borne out of a sense of belonging, a moral stand that rests on the fact that we never brought anyone to our continent. Unlike Mandela I don't believe that Africa belongs to all who live in it. I believe Africa belongs to the Africans. Unlike Mugabe I will not chase you out: But I refuse to live like a guest on the land where I originate.
My conscience refuses to submit to your doctrine. Your doctrine is concerned when we speak out but did very little when we were oppressed. I believe in the God who loves Africa too. The God who commands us to love all man. I love you, but I refuse to let you oppress me. I don't hate you because hatred weakens but love give me strength. Strength to tell you when you are wrong. Strength to stand up and fight; not fight you but fight for my people.
Yeah you can go ahead and call me racist. It does not bother me much. My race has been called worse. We survived when we were called kaffir; We survived when we were called negro. The name calling does not start now. I know who I am. I am an African who refuses to be intimidated.
Live alongside me with the knowledge that I am a man at war. Not against you but against the circumstances facing my race.