Say it loud, I’m black and I’m proud!

Intro & Selection by Alex Gwaze

Does pride come before the fall? If Africans didn’t have their pride, would we be where we are today? In the rich tapestry of African history, pride ignites the resilience and beauty of heritage, revealing the profound strength of Africa. Let us harness this inner power to change our world and restore the dignity of our unique identity. We are African, born of the motherland – a place where nature’s vibrant landscapes thrive, and our skin mirrors the essence of determination, with unwavering conviction beautifully expressed. Then, now and forever, our spirits will rise, unbroken and free.

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Forever Spins

BY LELE JEREMOT
Malawian make-up artist, actress and camera person. Lele (Lele SFX) has done special effects for Malawi’s first zombie film “Dead Forest”, and acted In “Is The President Dead?”. In addition she was part of production crew for “Sowing Seeds”, “Misnomer”, “Mushroom Shade,” and more.

Am I prideful?
For I am better than the rest,
I am proud and I’ll not comply,
With anyone who would suggest, I bow
I’ve earned my space.

I am my mother’s daughter,
the echo of my ancestors,
I have accomplished great deeds,
my roots run deep.

Why do you want to weight me,
with the burden of their expectations –
wake, clean, cook, eat, make babies,
then fall asleep without knowing,
the visions from my dreams.

My heart bleeds,
I’ve lost my footing.
But I still have my grace,
my pride, my children.

I am a woman of many skins,
pride is the trap that my seed will fall in,
let the soil witnesses my feats.
In the eyes of my own,
I am reminded,
I am not isolated and alone.
I’m their spirit, their laughter, and curiousity.
Forever spins from me to them.
So yes, I am proud!
Proud of the love that they will know:
Their mother’s love.

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The Serengeti Sings

BY STELLA KINGORI
Kenyan educator, writer, children’s literature author, translator, and advocate, driven by a love for languages, and the arts.

The Serengeti sings
beneath a burning sun,
where the wild things roam free,
and the day is won.

Here at Africa’s heart.
where the sky stetches wide,
hands meet hands,
and spirits shine.
A thousand tongues,
pulse beneath a hues of dusk and gold.
In this ancient timeless song,
a thousand tongues entwine,
with the lives and dreams of billions of sons and daughters,
left untold.

Fierce and bright!
Oh, Africa, cradle of treasures untamed,
Why is your love whispered?
Why are your talents unnamed?

You, the timeless song,
cradle of culture, waters deep,
wisdom that flows like the eternal tide.

Oh Africa,
this land of plenty, this land of lore,
Her riches, buried deep,
beneath the sacred soil,
but richer still, in her spirit’s toil.

Here, where life is a song,
and pride is the way,
guiding each footstep,
towards the dawning day.
Here, where sunsets burn and
mornings lift every soul higher.
Let us guard this land,
with fierce embrace,
protect her beauty, her sacred space.

For Africa’s spirit, ancient and grand,
lives in the soul of every grain of sand,
her children stand as on.
Beneath her sky, beneath her sun,
cherish her warmth with tender might,
a shield for our heart,
our sword of endless light.

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No Stain To Your Negro

BY PRINCESS DANIEL
Nigerian award winning poetess, a content writer, a storyteller, scriptwriter, a graphic designer and a basketballer. She’s known for her pen name “Fortunate Writes.”

I am only a black girl,
Who has churned through pungent occurrences,
Yet I riddle my way to put a smile on your faces,
For we negros never run out of art.

I am only a black girl,
I once tore away the maths that helped me walk,
But you see we negros never get stained,
We always find our way home.

I am only a black girl,
You may have held unto my type shit,
Good luck with the papers till 2090,
Please don’t run out of pagnation.

I am only a black girl,
Whom you beffited to the ugly mud of the jungle,
Astaffirulah you hate on me,
But Alhamdullilah I’m good.

I am only a black girl,
I have woken up from a painful night occasionally,
But my tear never goes out of the room,
Yeah, I cry the blood out before you perceive it.

I am only a black girl,
A survivor of your hate speech,
Here’s to the thickskin I wear without malice,
Your only flinge you could never keep.

I am only a black girl,
An acrylic of your contempt,
And nobody crystals my beauty like me,
You would feel me if you got feelings.

My negro is never exhausting to the eyes,
So allure me with what you see,
And see me with what you feel,
Because I am only a black girl.

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Cover image from @thenwabunikewritinghub

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