The tale of black talisman and flying snow

An era of fame in the snow's shadow,
a practical tale of black zeus in snow paradise
a magnanimus novel of black magnificence and statutory magneminence

deep in the bottomless pit of history,
they came to our lands, we saw them as gods,
skin like milk, statures of eminence
speaking a mystical hieroglyphics we didn't understand
till the friendly handshake of colonization,
now I'm writing it too, this very moment.
well they took our minerals and traded them for
hazardous wine our eminent chiefs never
knew were harmful,
they loved to drink heavy stuff, so we gave
them the gold, a lot of gold and we gave them wine
in the colony's solar eclipse
they baptised us with an autumn culture
with winter pronounciation, hiding it
with the intelligence of the theoritical mirage
known as "Christian name"
for years my beautiful empire,
my homeland, Africa, was known as a land of darkness,
where the thought black was a symbol
of evil
of cause we were the only continent that
didn't have four seasons; but solar melodies
and watery orchestras from the sky

with their beguiled mentality of outrageous discovery,
they sold us as if the minerals the shrewdly pilfered
with low value were not enough, into slave trade,
to work us pitiful servants and some, fight as soldiers
during wars, we were trapped in the disparaging dungeons
and the fiendish jails,
some of my strong ancestors, failed to prove
their black immortality by dying, I don't blame
them, their peace was under siege

soon, God saw the affliction of half his people
and sent Moseses to lead them to
the Canaan of independence, where the oceans
of conviction were split into two, liberating our souls.
He sent George Washington Carver and others,
to reveal the existence of black gold.

Yet modernity came, Kwame Nkrumah
dethroned them, Nelson Mandela slayed their tyranny,
and Africa smiled,
but they still siphon afar,
taking advantage of our deep ignorance
with the arsenal of their knowledge and wisdom


In Africa, you hear heavenly views
from above, when some childish minds
watch hollywood films, wonder at the swagger
of these magnamazing powerful nations of winterous paradise
they say it's a land of cyrup and caramel,
an Eden of no worries

But when the plane carries you into truth
and the chills slaughter your skin,
you realized the wisdom of the black culture,
in this land, children shouting at their parents,
talking back at them with disrespect,
my! you can do this back at Mount Olympus below!

I hope I'm not watson in the case of hidden ignorance;
seeing you and your skin, some give VERY friendly
smiles, when they flinch and yelp and cry with disgust
within them; some say they don't mean to offend,
but they utter verbal punches to urinate on your personality

We are not so different!
we have eyes, we have noses, we have mouths,
we can talk! Just like you!
there are mean ones among us!
kind ones among us!
wicked ones among us !
and strict ones among us!
we have brains!
just like you!
the only difference between me and you
is the skin colour.
                                    By Kakraba Afful