a poem by peninnah ng'ang'a, Kenya

Has become the new beat!
Red carpet to the streets of London
her name you scream!
Shows still rattles on
on her
about her
Everyone want a piece of her.
The new flavor of the old school!

Centuries later
after decades of bondage
slavery and persecution
Patsey is Midas.

who would have thought?!

Is it celebration or admission of guilt?
Awe or shame?
Complements or commemoration?
Contemplation and realization
of the injustice,pain and inhumane
subjected on the black woman?

The body you tortured with lashes and slashes
you compete to have your fine gowns hang on it.
You loathed that skin
you customize products for the mahogany beauty!
The voice you tamed with hurls and slur
you lust after its speech.
Patsey is now A talk show!

No longer an infidel,Kaffir...
Patsey has become a household name
an icon
a tittle to behold.
Good enough for your surname.
"Marry me" you quest.
"Lets make babies that will need no tan..."
you seek the fruit of the same womb
you ruptured with every manner of insertion.
Perhaps they will right your past
Kids that will need no pass or identity.

The heart you scared with scorn and hatred
is the same as the one loving you.
Her 'weird' culture and traditions
inspires your cold ways.
Her God now you call upon Him.
That whom you segregated with contempt
now you eulogize and adore.
Patsey is no longer "THEM"
you realized they are no different from "US".
worth the same opportunities as you
same capabilities as yours
similar blood to that on your veins...

And so the song goes on.

Is it glory or venture for your redemption?

A con?

Another political racial game?

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