Black Angels are here to address history

Nai Sandura
African Thoughts
Published in
4 min readAug 30, 2017
Black Art Depot

Do you mean I didn't shine enough?

Is that exactly why I didn't deserve to be called an angel?

Every angel thing I did wasn’t enough?

The wings too weren't enough?

See to tell you the truth, I am tired of being used, no its not just a matter of being used because if you used me to promote all the glory holy things you do my fellow angels we wouldn't be having this conversation.

I have become the symbol of another world. A world nobody loves, a world I don’t represent.

With all the love in my heart I have been abandoned by my own. Some say whats the matter its just a symbol. Its not just a symbol because this is my life.

I have been interpreted the wrong way since the start of history, why? Because I wasn’t privileged enough to write the history?

Those that have taken the paint have chosen to paint me holding a knife, they have told the future to distance itself from me.

My pure existence has been labelled a curse to the world. Some even carry flags that support my existence being wiped out of the face of earth.

I have been silent for too long.

I am here to address the history. I am here to challenge the brush that painted these walls.

Once I am done you are going to tell your kids, “black angels exist.”

You are going to tell them a version of me, not the one you chose to label me with.

That fork doesn't belong to me because I hold a red heart! And I shine too. Yes I bring light where ever I go.

Its this light that you have chosen to ignore that is going to show you the way.

Its true, I have been silent for too long.

Its not dirt that makes me look this way because even white paint on a black t-shirt is dirt. Our colors were not born of things, I am this way because of biology.

I saw this and I loved. I loved how I was able to pick out my own, I loved how I was able to stand the sun in Africa. I loved it more because it made me stronger.

All the stones you have been throwing at me, I am building a bridge to connect with my other brothers and sister fighting the same war. The war of black angels.

Because we have been silent for too long.

I have the brush now, yes I am going to paint my reflection, one that cant be ignored.

I used to cry when I saw how other angels were roaming freely on the face of the earth, they even took some of my kids, in the midst of mourning I let them. Lord knows how much I missed them!

I heard what they did to them, what kind of an angel does that? Was I wrong to trust something that shiny? Were those wings just for display?

I hope my kids will forgive me, we could have built a better future together, we could have made our own brush a long time ago.

All the way I am grateful you survived because some of your siblings fell by the sword of the greedy. After they took you away from me, they wanted my soil, we were all kicked out of our farms, yes the ones that gave us life.

They came out for everything my kids. We tried to fight them my kids. They were just too brutal its like they prepared for this a long time before. My wings were bruised in that war, I haven't played in the sky in a long time.

I am not complaining my kids, I have made my own share of mistakes. This is not the time to cry because crying hasn't done us good.

I am here for the future. I am here to stop this narrative.

I have shown love even though I was bitter, but they chose to ignore it, generation after generation they talked in small whispers praising the painting that told a story that was not mine.

Now that my silence is gone, you are going to know that black angels exist and they shine!

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