© 2011 Ras Flako Tafari



Sitting and pondering how the politicians have the nation on the edge of expectancy while poverty and unemployment is eating at the core of the good, the willing and able. So many of us have not inherited any substance from our parents or grandparents, we were not a beneficiary to the stolen legacy, nor do we have any fancy castles on earth or flashy sport cars, we are always strapped for cash standing in the line of hand to mouth.

Why are we painting every one with the same brush? It is not nice to be forecasting just doom and despair and gloom, some may argue. Now prosperity is not measured by the wealth of the few who wield their financial power to continuously enrich themselves at the expense of others. Why are so many of us are still labouring in sweat shops collecting starvation wages without any hope of improving our selves?  It is so hard to make ends meet in this economic meltdown, yuh know.

Now the system has the majority of brilliant minds in the mental illusion of work hard to reap success; what success? Does working for the corporation, bring success, or is it the status and the prestige to be among the rich and famous which will bring forth the success? Will academic achievement bring the success that one expects? Is success achieved when you reach the top and forget where you are coming from?

Many of us knows from experience that when it rains it pours, the flood waters will surely wash you away if your roots are shallow, know that the society will spit you out  if you deal with folly, all your life history will be written on toilet paper, if you get my meaning.

Many Africans are struggling hard to regain the glory of their ancestors, it is a case of mental, physical and emotional struggle to come to grips with the real self, worse if one is born within the crossover of multi ethnic transformation, which would place him or her in the middle of the road and put parents on edge.

Can’t blame the youth as he tries to get in touch with his mix up DNA, one could be going through a silent revolution, emotional withdrawal or just charged with renewed energy to create a new trend in society.

On this mystic journey, the sage will rise and speak to those who have ears to hear and a willing heart to carry out the work.  Rastafari is the conscience of the people, the living ancestor, the I within the I, the one whose physical presence is the one of old, trodding in the modern era of time.

So what about Africa and its liberators? It is said that Africa awaits her creators, are these creators in the Diaspora, or are they sleeping giants on the continent mesmerized by years of mental slavery that set one against each other for power which they already have, but don’t realize it? What is it that triggers these religious wars which plunge the nation into poverty, starvation, suffering and homelessness?  Is this the man made hell on earth?

Tears are not enough to wash away the grief of the innocent and vulnerable, no amount of inquiry into an atrocity, or a crime against humanity will bring about a closure.

This divide and rule mentality has robbed the world of human values. The beast like nature of mankind is on the rise, the world is powered by competition and not partnership, thus the weak are trampled by the strong and many promising ones are nipped in the bud because of their poverty status.

There are many who have seen the light of a better tomorrow. There are also many who have a chip on their shoulder because they have academic qualifications. Remember knowledge not shared becomes useless and what is good for the goose is surely good for the gander.

No time to hop skip or jump, yet we know that life is an obstacle course and survival is imperative. It is a mental struggle for some to survive each day as there seems to be no breathing space to cope with bad state of the economy. Many will have to resort to the ways of their ancestors and chant, “…the day when the dollar die things will be better.”

So it is, so it will be.


*All rights reserved.  No part of this article may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the writer Ras Flako Tafari.*

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