Some things cannot be expressed, nor explained by mere words.
Some of the things in life that has victimized people should’ve never taken place.
These type of tragic events breed a certain kind of hurt that will scar your heart and wound the soul.
How do you grasp or make sense of something that traumatized you?
How do you see past the ungodly actions of people that broke your spirit and created within your mind the memoirs of such horror and tragedy that you wish you could forget it with every fiber of your being?
How do you heal from the violent death of a child?
How do you recover from witnessing your husband viciously assassinated?
or become mentally resilient after the traumatic experience of witnessing your wife being raped?
How are you suppose to respond to having everything that you own taken suddenly away from you?
Tears cannot express what it feels like to lose both your freedom and your hope.
How do you rebuild what constitutes a happy home?
Some things cannot be replaced.
I do not say this from a voice of sentiment, nor do I stress this from the loss of monetary possessions or property.
I say this from the voice of history, that reaffirms that once certain things are taken, the loss alters who you are, from the theft of something so meaningful that it reshapes how you think, it changes your direction in life and repositions you from being on the path of blessings into being pushed upon the course of accursed darkness .
In light of what has happened, I feel responsible.
Sister Girl, today’s quest must first begin with an apology to a class of people, a heritage of people, a culture of people, a royal nation of people, a distinguished people, and a strong family of ethnic origin.
As a Blackman here upon the shores of America, I understand that closure must take place in order for certain relationships to heal.
The key to recovery is first understanding how you are hurting, why it hurts, what happened to hurt you, and what will it take to soothe the pain.
Brother Man and Sister Girl, don’t turn your back upon one another, look at each other. Its time! face to face we stand.
We can no longer ignore this, we are a species that’s in danger.
We must have this conversation, this dialogue must be open, transparent, and authentic.
Often times we feel as though what our ancestors went through had nothing to do with us.
We feel that this generation is exonerated from what their kinfolks afflicted, Infused, injected, and perpetuated upon us as a culture of people.
As I look at the lasting affects of our stained history, I can easily see the damage that slavery inflicted upon my Royal ancestry.
I look into the eyes of my brother, or my sister, and I can see the low self esteem, the loss of identity, the mentality of inferiority, and the Savage affects of illiteracy, poverty, and the damning pathologies that plague The African here upon the shores of America.
The hate that produced the hate is seen daily in our city streets through black on black crime, and the disunity of the black family.
As a man I must address my beautiful Sister Girl.
Sisters I want you to really listen to my heart. I fully understand why you would be disappointed at the productivity of black men.
I know why you would be angry with us, frustrated , confused and feeling unloved and disconnected with a lot of black men.
I can acknowledge and see why you would feel unsupported in your dreams, aspirations and endeavors.
Each day of life you feel under tremendous pressure as both single mother’s, and the sole bread winner of the family.
I understand your plight, I understand the massive responsibility that you are compelled to carry are those that I relinquished as a man.
Sister Girl, I stand in the place of men who refuse to change, who refuse to give you closure or a valid reason for abandoning you and your children.
I apologize for men who won’t work and handle business. I apologize for history, for not protecting you when strangers and foreigners invaded our homeland and took you, molested you, raped you, brutally beat you, and sold you.
As a man I should have died before I allowed you to go through those barbarian acts of inhumane treatment.
Sister Girl, if you were not worth dying for, you wouldn’t be worth living for and sharing life with through holy matrimony and birthing my seed.
If I can be man enough to make love to you and deposit life within your womb, I must in every area be masculine enough to protect you, and honor you as the giver of life, the life receiver, the nurturer of life, and the carrier of love in a man’s heart.
( Genesis 2: 21, 22 )
And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam; and while he slept, He took one of his ribs or a part of his side and closed up the place with flesh.
And the rib which the Lord God had taken from the man He built up and made into a woman, He brought her to the man
Sister Girl, you came from within me!
If I love you as I love myself, would I allow such Atrocities to happen to me without fighting back?
I would fight even if it meant that I had to fight to the death!
As I evaluate slavery …. there’s no way that I would accept such immoral evil, and morbid savagery to happen to me and my family and consider the aftermath as life…or possess the attitude that suggest that at least slavery is over and now we can heal.
How do you heal from being removed from your culture? and from your homeland?
How do you heal from the incurable disease of racial disorientation, after being ethnically stripped of your language, taken from your natural resources, and forced to starve in a foreign country?