The African Conscience

 
Prologue to African Conscience (1
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.
1) Tsegaye Gabre-Medhin (1936–2005)
Extracted from The History of Ethiopia

Saheed A. Adejumobi

Greenwood Press

*
Africa-2011

Holy Africa, the cradle of Man,
The last Joy adrift;
Once uprooted!
And yet, the call of the roots in its tenor,
2011, beginning to come to the senses,
Well founded, in the ground
Of its nature, of the rights it deserves!
Oh come what once lost,
Its dignity: The human spirit!
And yet some way off, deep in the forest.
Till Great Tsegaye rejoices high,
In the soul and his Will!
The light is just, in Egypt.
Still enjoy, the last Joy!

And Ethiopia ?!

Just wait; and wait!
For the next wave,
May be, in the the mystique, 2012.
Hope & Wait,
To-morrow is, bright!

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