I Am a Slave

My ancestors had years of struggle Trying to blend into their masters ideas And to secure a slot in masters good books They fought hard to disown who they are Just to prove themselves worthy Of their masters colonizing philosophy I, at the receiving end I’m battling to reconcile My ancestor’s conformity Because I have nothing I can call it my own They gave it all away in exchange for civilization Or the master took everything using the same context My master preached civilization As a tool to liberate a black child Our ancestors bought into their ideas Unknowingly they sold our souls Like the word peddlers of old Who come to people wearing sheep skins Yet they are dangerous wolves They preached cultural exchange Yet they did nothing to learn our culture After all the years I’ve been with my master He still can’t pronounce my name Pity for him I don’t have a religious names I’ve seen people die because of their lingo Others perish because of how they look Many vanished in experiments executed by the master Skulls are still held captive in our master’s castle Far away from motherland Namibians I feel your pain Hundred years passed since the First World War We still suffer at the hands of the master My speech My food My tradeoff abilities All is measured against my master’s way of life I will never raise above my master He’s a custodian of western life The work I do is nothing If the master does not approve Even if multitude node with approval My talent may be up there Amongst the best in the world But all that is futile If the master turns a blind eye As if my life don’t matter Sarina give thanks to the all mighty For you kept on shining till this day The texture of my skin does not disqualify The fact that I’m a human being too I want to believe I’m free But I still feel, I am a slave