My western credentials? I dream in the language of the Queen, have read literatures commissioned in her name. I have been schooled according to the traditions of her country and studied her history. When I was born, she was head of my country. For better or worse, this European queen is a part of my life. I did not choose her. 

Given a choice, she may not have chosen my people either but Her forbearers foisted themselves upon mine and that is how I became one of her unchosen and she my sovereign-unchosen. 

My forbearers loved this particular queen because she was a truly beautiful child of the gods...and I concurred - for when I came of age I saw that her physical beauty was unsurpassed in all of the earth. 

I love the term – best of British but t does not apply to me it gives me a sense of a people, proud of their heritage, who honour their own. 

I thus must coin my very own and apply it to myself: I thus here declare without any hesitation or shame  whatsoever, that I am the best of Africa and that this is a term which drives me along gently.... and hardens my resolve to be above board every time..... to become the best I can ever be every time..... psssst!!.....I also reign as a prince though my kingdom exists in my heart only...according to the new concepts of kingly duties which were laid down for us at Calvary.....

Were was I?

Indeed the black man possesses a simplicity which is often termed stupidity because as a group, he is hardly driven by his genes to prove anything. The Negro however is the basic human - given that his present homeland is the cradle of humanity and this lack of affect has been cause for concern to many would be well-wishers who sometimes must shake their heads in wonderment at the Negroes unseemly pace of 'progress'.

I once saw a caution sign which read: MEN AT WORK to which somebody (whether in mirth or in angst, I wist not) had added 'SLOW' before the 'MEN' changing its meaning completely.

'SLOW MEN AT WORK' it now said.

It was hilarious. it was funny. I walked away amused pleased somewhat that there was still so much fun in the world in spite of all.... but I left it all right there. The men were probably slow in the mind for a whole lot of sensible reasons. The problem was to take the issue to such preposterous levels where a whole race of men are deemed inferior to others...

I have often wondered though about the general slowness of the men on the ground: Is it a myth? Could it have been written in his genetic code that he (the Negro that is), is Everyman?

A case of his genes saying to all other gene pools: 

"Be Still and Know That I am. For I predetermined you. I am your God"

Now, If that be the case, that is, Everyman has a parent Negro gene, then every human achievement is a star on his woolly crown of hair!!

Should he then try hard to impress you doing things which are irrelevant to him. Showing of skills he programmed into your genes?

Could he not have hollered to his mutating genes: "Hey!! Discover other lands and THEN come for me"

What I may be saying obliquely is that Negroid-Nipponese, Negroid-Europese & Negroid-two (or Negroid²) should stand shoulder to shoulder as men justly proud of their achievements right in the niche where Mother Nature has placed them!!

Of what use is a microchip to the San bushman?
A whole lot I'd say but what is he to survive on while he takes time off to set up an R&D department of physical sciences with a charter to ponder the universe (A luxury not given to He who must daily toil for every drop of water).
Why then should every new generation of Africans be tormented for one crime only – the crime of of the smiling trusting heart – a sin committed by his ancestors. The might of the Vietnamese foot soldier eloquently speaks of the power of insurgency. Should the African of old not be commended for his hospitality? How did the hospitable suddenly become the ignoble the foolish? Because when you "Wrong a man, he will surely become a villain" Or so said Frederick Nietzsche

+++

I am here because....

The black man knows all experiences of men are valid experiences for they are written into his genetic code. He has been everything – in turns:

Digger Of Tunnels, Cotton Picker, Sugar Cane Harvester, Transported Cargo, Silent Sufferer, Unpaid Wage-Man, Poisoned Heart, Victim Of False Witnesses, Lynched body, Despised Soul, Unacknowledged genius, Builders of empires, Inventor of civilisation, Architect, Engineer, Surgeon, Artiste, Inventor Of Art Forms, Indomitable Spirit, Embodiment Of Godliness, Fierce Warrior...

The Negro is here because he deserves to be here. Make no mistake about that. He made the transition from nomadic to community life. He transited through the bronze and iron ages on his own. He was never discovered – his was the first consciousness. He discovered there were men different from him in the same world but welcomed them with the smile of the one who will smile. His smile – that was his weakness.

The Negro nonetheless ceded space and dominion to the one with the belching stick.
Today, we are witnesses to the stupendous increase in the number of wars, and troubles - worldwide.
It cannot be sheer coincidence that these wars started only when emerging peoples threw of the yoke of colonialism. Did the malevolent forces whose greed and insatiable capacity for execrable conduct not prescribe these troubles?
There are still attempts to steal land and resources belonging to others but this is being met with stiff resistance – the AK47 being available on the open market, no one has a monopoly of the belching stick. No more the smiley faces. The weak (the Negroes in spirit) would rather die than live with no dignity

What is the message from Durban? I shall tell you: Having ceded space to the foreign one and become enmeshed in his world and meretricious culture, we have become nostalgic for the days when each stayed in his home and dreamt of a better world. A world in which civilisations would have met on friendlier terms.
The Negro not driven by his genes to prove anything because he is everything – knows who he really is. One on one, he is second to none. Having maligned his very own ancestors and called them names with his very own lips (echoing the sentiments of the world he was born in) he has come full circle. To all that have carried him thus far into the quagmire he now finds himself– for better or for worse, he is simply saying:
Teacher!! Thanks but no Thanks. Your contradictions stink!!

That is the message I hear from Durban this August day 2001.

-Didiscottie