Our people, now wandering without purpose/mission/or meaning, having accepted defeat by their very lack of committed action, at each other's throat, carrying the mark of slavery, disillusioned by the storms of life, many now immoral, accepting degeneracy daily, divided, down-low, trying to live out this life building the civilizations of others, finally aging and dying and then trying to get into some make-believe heaven that the very oppressor defined---then justifying it. 

Overcome with the tears of innocent children caught up in a colossal genocidal mess not of their making, somehow knowing how far we have fallen---from a race of writers to a people who could no longer read or write, from a race who hand-made clothes laced with gold and silver to semi-nakedness, wearing the rags of the enslavers, from a people who built 43-story pyramids of 2.6 million 2-ton stones to people who build straw and mud huts or lives on reservations and in the filthy projects of ghettos, from a people that engineered massive building projects and urban centers that still stand 4000 years after they were first built to a people with less than one percent of the scientists in the world, from a people with a 7000 year old calendar and language in ancient Kmt to a people unable/unwilling to measure and weigh anything for themselves, from a people born with natural Black hair to people who straighten and process their hair with lye, abrasive chemicals, "relaxers," rollers, Jeri curls, and "kits" to look like the oppressor, plastic surgery, lips, noses, cutting their faces surgically, colored contact lens---everything for them and nothing for ourselves, wearing rags on our heads and faces, sheets, and sandals, on our knees to the east and to the west imitating them, the enslavers, from a people who civilized themselves enough to create a calendar over 7000 years ago to people who now honor only the calendar of the enslavers who started barely 2000 years ago.

From independence to running around in the oppressor's clothes, defending their beliefs, worshipping their gods, on pilgrimage in their "holy" lands---wasting time in the capitols of our enslavement, death and destruction, sanctioned by popes, imams, rabbis; our blood  on their hands, glorifying their heroes---actually our murderers.

Living day in and day out building the oppressor's civilization while destroying our own---feeding them, clothing them, caring for their young, building their roads, paving their streets, plowing their fields, guarding their properties, securing their building, defending their countries in time of war, cooking their food, cleaning, washing, making their beds, working in their factories, running their restaurants, profiting their businesses, serving them from crib to grave, selling their drugs/poisoning our own communities, drinking alcohol, misusing drugs, eating their swine, abandoning our children, lying, cheating stealing, adultery, promiscuity, lateness, laziness, never keeping our words, uttering filthy profanity, calling each other dogs and bitches, dressing half naked, and lotto gambling that we always seem to lose---but somewhere in this sadness not falling apart completely though.

For the inexhaustible march of history maintains the record, the universal archive, the supreme evidence, and nothing has been forgotten or will ever be.  Holding on at the edge of the universe, threads, tattered cosmic rags, shreds, still with us though, a heart beat, trembling, throbbing, as it was in the beginning so it be in the end so it is said.  For the gravitation of a trillion stars could not tear us apart from the billions of flesh chains linked in spirit to our past---the unmarked graves of those of us tortured and just thrown into a hole.  But today, the suffering of millennia is being weighed, and it is a heavy burden. The broken lives, shattered dreams, crushed hopes, and burning fury fuel history's unanswered demand for justice---a justice that only those who are free will bring about. 

Even the walls, which have been soaked with the blood, mucus and silence of millions of innocent African men, women, and children over the pass 500 years cry out today to this generation of Africans calling them to pilgrimage to the hundreds of fort dungeons---death camps for millions of innocents---along the coast of West Africa to make their pledges, to commune with the ancestors, to map the course, and to plan freedoms to come.  Their broken lives have not been forgotten; they are being remembered more each day.   Redemption, repatriation, resurrection, restitution, reparations are being measured in Africa, and the Diasporia. The days of fanfare, cheap talk, bluffing, faking, empty threats, demagogic bluster, double-dealing while taking payoffs and begging for hand-outs, and masked opportunism are being stripped of their fake smoke and mirrors. 

For centuries, African sons and daughters had watched attentively as revolt after revolt ended pathetically, unmercifully, cruelly, and in disaster.  Solutions were not scientifically studied.  Many were not prepared, and so they lost.  Anybody can fight and lose, but only those prepared to win have a chance to win.  Unprepared, unorganized, messy, uncommitted, divided, mystical, unscientific, wishy-washy, egotistical, unwilling to sacrifice petty pleasures---the failures mounted, thus, delaying the inevitable resurrection of the African population.   Winning requires a concrete understanding of (1) the objective conditions, (2) the African problem statement, (3) what must be done to solve it, and (4) the will to go out and do it. First, objective conditions must be precisely studied, calculated, weighed, and measured in order to isolate the African problem statement.  This has never been done.

If any problem is to be understood, one must go to the very beginning of that problem.  Next, the conditions that allowed that problem to develop must be examined.  Finally, every single stage in the birth, growth, and development of the problem must be examined until the solution becomes clear.  The solution to a problem is accurate in proportion to the precision of the method used to research it.  The African problem statement, clearly understood, holds the elements of its solution within the problem statement itself.  The solution is always the opposite of the problem.  Frame the problem with precision, and the answer will be at the heart of the question---it will be the opposite of the problem in question.

Those who seek to continue to harm us have dreams of more drugs, black-on-black-homicide, joblessness, obsolescence, family abandonment, cruelty to one another, spinelessness, confusion, homelessness, hunger, blood, guts, AIDS, prison slavery, broken African men, broken African women, broken African families, and scattered prostrate bodies.  Worried dreams and real nightmares invade their nights, keeping them awake and aware of their guilt.  No lie lives forever, surely they know as do we.  And so, in order to continue to cover their misdeeds, the worst of them plot savage butchery dressed in nazi uniforms, with hopes of suffocating black babies in their bath, movements in their embryo, leaders before they are born.  With fantasies of drowning the African liberation in another ocean of blood, they arm themselves to the teeth, training in militias with black targets to liberate themselves, they say, from conservatives who are not conservative enough.  With affirmative action ended, the illusion of reverse-discrimination made believable, they move toward solutions that are final.  Black schools are closed in mass; Black colleges have accreditation withdrawn, hospitals and clinics servicing poor Blacks are closed, city services cut---this will not improve.

Dead but not done in virtue and within are the best of us squared, an eternal everlasting flame in we the living, for we are worth far much more than we know, what they think of us does not matter, we are nothing to them anyway.  Stirring from our slumber, toughened by pain and sacrifice, tempered by being torn apart so many times before, forged, pure steel in flesh, stiring, off our knees, no more groveling, reaching out for another chance at heaven in this world, passions stoked, a spiritual bonfire with no end, so shall it be forever---never ending, ancestors inflamed by we---the living---quietly having searched out every star.  We did not come undone.  Flash backs to when we were whole gathered there on the shore, a time when our inner light filled even the darkest room, when we were the sweetest of gifts that only our ancestors could have bestowed, when even at our worst we were better than their best, when one of us fell down another picked us up, when hungry we fed the other, when sick we cared for another, when weighted down with the brute force of their system of death and destruction we comforted those who would live even as we died, when at the end of our time we stood tall, we faced our situation with open eyes, we showed heart, we showed courage, we set examples for all the world to see, we measured up. 

For now we know: those who are most committed, whether for a good or a bad cause will always win in the end, we know this now, so whatever may come now we own, relentless historic survivors we are, assuming this life task seriously.  For the storm draws near, the flood tides rise, windows shutter as the winds of life roar in the towers, the vortex nears, it begins as invincible feelings of redemption.  Our ancestors finished well.  We should also. 

What people who harm us and take advantage of us think means nothing.  They have the right to their views.  We have our own rights: exercise them.  Respect those who respect you.  Honor those who honor you.  Stand beside, not behind any race, culture, gender, class.  First we must make it hard for people to oppress us; taking advantage of us should never again be easy.  Harming us should require a steep climb; our own lives should have meaning, value, worth.  We must remove ourselves from anything oppressive, whether class, race, gender, culture, generation, or psychologically driven---drive it out of your lives.  From the roar of inner battle with the unquenchable spirit of the survivors of the Middle Passage, the victims of the most sinister, diabolical, grotesque, and abominable crimes committed against humanity we will rebuild our own homes (first within) in our own image and interest.  

Unmatched commitment now, superior schematic intellect, unbridled passion for rightness, balance, justice, Maat.  Nothing less will do.  Strong as cold steel and as hard to crack as a diamond, having resolved to do right this time, to repay those who have helped us, to care for those who care for us, to respect those who respect us, to stand for that which stand for us, to give what we have to those who have earned it, to find forever in our own hearts and the work of our own hands, to search every star for answers, to learn what must be learned, to give what must be given, to search the end of the universe to quiet suffering souls, to find a way, to make a way, to do what is necessary, to live life with meaning, to give the very best in return for what we have been given, to honor the best of our people, to seek answers to moral questions first from within, to do our best work. History demands this.