OmÓjuwúrà
To AFRICAN CREATIVE AUTHORS
First writers in Africa had much themes of colonization, the 'weakedness' of the masters in their works. They showed, they told. Many were said, many unsaid.
I ask, won't it be foolish, extra foolish, if we still cry the same thing on the long gone lords. If we still blame them for the lot we have? It would be because they left us with ONE thing to be like them. That thing which made them more powerful than us. It is what we call western education. Institutions to acquire knowledge, knowledge is light and light brings freedom. Advance knowledge was what made the difference then and it is still making the difference now. They were not who they were because of colour, language or whatever separate us, it is their exposure to knowledge that made them. This they brought us into through the establishment of schoos then.
They gave the power they had not in limit, those who fought for independence use this same power given by the master to gain freedom, it was not of guns and swords, it was the light from knowledge that they can be free and they fought for it.
We have same light and we do not explore it to be better, rather we feed on the continuous products of light drawn by the old masters. Up till now, we have in our hands key to unlock doors, sons amd daughters from this soil still go to their schools and nothing is hidden from them, if such thing be let them say.
So why, why, why are we behind. Why do we live as if there is no way? Why is there so much light but we dwell in darkness of our heart? Who are we to blame, the white or the black lords?
The dark ones now are the blindness that blind us! The limitation that limite us! The iron bar that hold us down stronger than the lords. And you know once, it is your own very foe (ota ile) you are really bond. The deliverance is of the most high. The black lords are our own very foes, greedy and mean, poor in soul, oh, they merrit not what they have.
African creative authors, I ask you , write now in this our own time for the freedom of Africa from these several chains that bind us. Especially of the black lords that has bond us low and tight, barring us from opportunities that avail for us. Great potential lie fallow in the land of black men, no intellectual investment. Intellectual properties make a nation. The growth is slow, nothing compare to what we can attain.
Haven't they done their worst, lives had been cut, evil create by them had betide men. Their heart is zeal and they forbid any one from given ray of light lest there is freedm from this self bond.
Use your swords, great warriors of words, let the archers of enlightenment shoot forth, let the stone of re-orientation destroy slavery mentality. Let the knife of ideal bring a replacement. Liberate by awareness, the soul of men bottled in pain but he laughs, E go better. When e go better,? Until the heart of men know new thing, a defined way out, this can be done by your inky sword.
Write, write, write for the fredom of our now Africa. Move the pen, let ink flow to stop bloodshed, to stop slavery, to end mediocry. Write, write, write for the souls that die by hunger each day, die by terrorism, die by product of corruption, write for the expression of potential nailed in the soul men. Write to displace this accursed ignorance. Write to save this generation not sure of what the future carry, the fathers have ate theirs and now that of the children they are busy with, write so this coming generation will have hope, not this hope against hope. Let the light of your pen, illuminate Africa from ignorace, bringing us to freedom and sustaining it. Write, write, for the people, for you, for the unborn. For the libration, let your pen arise.
Africa shall be free.