It’s been a viral discussion among individuals, African countries and the world at large, whether African development is either real or an illusion. But how can it be real if we the owners of this land have no love for it, if we can only look for peace, safety and a great belonging in other places than our land itself.
It’s been a viral discussion among individuals, African countries and the world at large, whether African development is either real or an illusion. But how can it be real if we the owners of this land have no love for it, if we can only look for peace, safety and a great belonging in other places than our land itself. How can it be real, if the development we’re craving for lies in the blood of our own brothers, the torturing of our own kind, the misuse and distortion of the black African race? Africa is paradise and everyone knows this. Even the hidden ghosts trying to make a hell out of it are aware of this. Even these invisible intruders finding their way into this majesty, find treasure beneath under it. So how then can we be so blind to see this storm coming? How can we just be so silent about these endless wars and the slavery market?
Recently, I read a piece about the outraged innocent Libyans being sold for only $400 into slavery. Between 700,000 and one million people have already been victims of this savage activity and up to 2,000 of these poor people have died over seas.
Among them are mothers and fathers of families, young girls and boys who had big dreams and great careers for this continent. Among them was a soul looking for a life to feed on. If we have already lost the humanity and the tiniest sense of sympathy, then let’s not lose conscious of validity of God’s beloved creatures. $400 can’t even pay rent for three months but can buy you a human being to work as your machine, and satisfy your sexual desires. These poor people who have suddenly lost hope, their families, their lives over a dollar bill not worth longing for, could be you, could your daughter, your son, your mother, your father, your people.
Something has to be done and it has to start from the lowest levels to the higher powers. Each and every black soul needs a wake up call. Someone needs to preach and dig out the essence of black lives. Its needs to be clear to everyone that every human’s life and rights matter. That even the smallest fairy fly needs to feel at peace in Africa. The young, the old, whether far or near, all hands need to grip up and set boundaries to this misery. With all our strength and firmness bound the rest of these crimes and villains, there is no doubt to delightment.
The writer is a Senior Six Student, Nu-Vision High School Kigali