My black siblings

It saddens my heart so much about  leaving our mother tongue to marry on our tongue with another man’s tongue
This thing called colonialism has eaten up our pride
This thing has stolen our identity
This thing has changed our minds and have made us blind
It has distracted our thinking capacity
So we see them us superior and to ourselves inferior
How can we speak someone’s language and can’t speak our own correctly?
I think is black clouds have waited for long
The rain needs to fall
We have been imprisoned, but can’t see
We speak and they say it’s not right or correct
And when we try speaking our authentic language, they we are barbaric
Even when we are correct about what we speak.

Mr. Livermore,
Tell me… Tell me you have never mentioned a word in my language wrongly
Tell me…
Tell me… Tell me you call me Kwabina and not Cobblah
Tell me… Tell me you call me Nii and not Nee
Tell me…
Mr. Livermore, why have you chosen to rule my life… Why

My black siblings,
Is about time to rain, let’s stop this mental thinking that everything about the white is right and ours wrong
that fact that their skin is white and ours black do not mean they are god, superior or more human than we are
let’s focus on our language too
for Mr. Livermore has always mention my name wrongly
we are one people, but different sounds of tongue
so nobody is wrong even when he doesn’t pronounce it well
let’s pay attention to our own, but let us also learn from others
for we are one people but in various accent.