Prologue to African Conscience

Tamed to bend
Into the model chairs
Carpentered for it
By the friendly pharos of its time
The black conscience flutters
Yet is taken in.
 
It looks right 
It looks left
It forgets to look into its own self:
The broken yoke threatens to return
Only, this time
In the luring shape
Of luxury and golden chains
That frees the body
And enslaves the mind.
 
Into its head
The old dragon sun
Now breathes hot civilization
And the wise brains
Of the strong sons of the tribes Pant
With an even more strange suffocation.
 
Its new self-awareness
(In spite of its tribal ills)
Wishes to patch
Its torn spirits together:
Its past and present masters
(With their army of ghosts
That remained to haunt the earth)
Hook its innermost soul
And tear it apart:
And the African conscience
Still moans molested
Still remains drifting uprooted.

Tsegaye Gabre-Medhin (1936–2005)
 
Extracted from The History of Ethiopia
Saheed A. Adejumobi
Greenwood Press

http://mindseyedub.com/Ethiopia.pdf
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