They rant and rave paging through their veins trying to find their roots before the blade, its a sickness, a furious fire taking everything in its wake, keep the faith soon translates to stay blind to your lands riches but if so then is the cross to blame? Was the white man’s kiss soo seductive nd sweet that we’ve now forgotten that we too once had manes..no not physical ones but truly weren’t we once the pride of our lands? They speak of endless catastrophes, putting us on the front line so the world may weep tears of mockery. but send provisions in any case so that their souls might rest at ease, are we being helped because we need it or is Africa now a path to fame? I wonder..what were their ancestors told, what magical wand do they wave to keep us under their hold... a firm suffocating grip only made powerful by our own refusal to c what their books hold, we are bold nd though old, our pride has kept our wisdom nd freedom on hold...