Enemies of Progress
After centuries of plunder,
you named us “Third World.”
Yet it is our gold, our oil, our blood,
that built your marble cities.
Each time we rise,
you strike.
You call it “aid.”
We call it chains.
You sent your priests of policy —
the Structural Adjustment prophets.
They preached “growth,”
but planted famine.
They promised light,
but brought debt.
You crowned our tyrants,
then cursed our nations.
You said, Africans do not think,
yet you fear our awakening.
You are the enemy of progress —
dressed in democracy,
drunk on hypocrisy.
Your institutions smile with knives.
Your justice is a coin
that only flips one way.
But the world turns.
The slave learns the map.
The master forgets the gate.
Soon your comfort
will taste like dust.
Your empires will beg
for the mercy they never gave.
You fed on the sorrow of others —
now sorrow will dine on you.
For there is no peace in theft,
and no safety in the spoils of deceit.
The age of awakening begins.
And this time,
the world is watching.
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