A Stubborn Race
written by: Aniedi Ita Bassey
@aniedibassey50
You buried my face inside your engraved palm and then Christened me a slave. You call yourself a saint, but you live behind the devil’s backyard. How could you play recklessly with a knife around your neck and expect it not to cut your throat?
Or have you forgotten that I am a stubborn race; a descendant of the Igbo spirit who picked drowning over slavery? Well, I have chosen not to wrestle with a clenched fist, for I know that deep in me lies the power of emancipation which Africans would be proud of.
It is not rocket science that I have refused to dance to the perplexed rhythm of your gongs, although my forefathers unknowingly wriggled to them and then ended up being enslaved. I won’t fall prey. I am not flinching, rather I have delved my feet into the sand of time, I have also raised the flag of freedom and set my posterity free from the bondage of slavery.
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