There is a flame of hope in the mere pulsing of my heart.
but endlessly tormented, it dances the dance of death.
sometimes becoming so dim, it’s questionable whether it's pondering its own extinction
or speculating its own existence.
But, as soon as it closes in on itself, wilting into its tiniest form, it resurges with grave urgency like the sharp gasp of a man who held his breath for just a little too long.
Drowning in his rugged sorrows, he forgot how to inhale.

“I have died too many deaths that were not mine.” said AUDRE LORDE

and that is the loss we experience every. single. time!

I am disheartened by this society's lack of boundaries. It seems that our bodies, our labour, and our culture are not enough to satiate those who so desperately need to consume us, that even our pain is fruit for exploitation. Many have spoken out more with interest to protect their reputations, to profit from our suffering, than to rise up to the virtues that will heal our imploding societies. I have long known that our liberation will not come at the mercy of our perpetrators. It will not be an act of kindness nor a call for justice, but a plea for their own survival. A non-negotiable condition imposed by us.

But as I grieve, and as I witness the world waking up to our plight (for what feels like the first time), I know that as long as my lungs permit, I will be fighting for the long-awaited, inescapable, sweet and glorious liberation that will rejoice my ancestors.

That perhaps, before my own departure, I will get a glimpse of a world which recognises the endless wonder of BLACK, that celebrates the fervour of our joy, and the reverent light we emit when we are free.

For we have been resilient for so long,
may an eternity of ease be amongst us. * * *

black folx, i love you
anaïs

My shoes too beaten up to let you in
reason I walk with a limp and with a knot in my stomach and my fist
I carry grudges like my house keys
they’re twice as heavy as my skin
My voice don’t weigh as much
They’ve made my throne a block
They’ve put my life on a clock that’s running backwards
and lied in every chapter of my ever after
I won’t set or settle

I’ve made you dance
I’ve won you medals
I’ve lined the pockets of your suits with oil and soil that’s fertile
You’ve put me in it
You’ve buried mine and built you cities and locked me away from my young and women
spit in her face and shut her down when she’s risen to take my place
Abused her petals
We won’t set or settle
No

If we truly want to revolutionise the culture of oppression. We must revolutionise the creative content and take control and ownership of the ‘black’ narrative. Are we truly independent? Are we working together effectively on an international scale? Are our nations of origin truly independent and benefiting from their natural resources? What's our definition of ‘wealth’? Are we in tune with the full spectrum of black culture? Are we respecting each other? As an artist I am fearlessly addressing some of these themes in my music.

"Hard times yeah, Pick yourself up off the floor

It's our time yeah, can you hear the drums of war" (War Drums)

I lead from the heart. Content is power and there is power in community. Ownership and economic freedom are the financial pillars of equality. Worth fighting for.

"Alfredo Jaar provided this quote exclusively to Boy.Brother.Friend Issue 1, which includes work from his 25 Years Later show held at Goodman Gallery in London last year. The exhibition featured a selection of works from Jaar’s The Rwanda Project, 1994-2000 in commemoration of the 1994 Rwandan Genocide.

The quote [above] is poignant for its capacity to speak to the might of communities that continue. although wrought with adversity and the residual trauma from a life in subjugation. There is internal work to be done to survive."

Don’t share a black screen just because you see everyone doing it. The question you should be asking yourself is this: what part will you play behind the black screen to help eradicate this disease we call Racism?

Will you listen to black people to understand their issues and culture?

You need to work out and execute on your role in helping eradicate systemic racism.

Be it educating the organisations you work in, educating your families, educating your friends, donating what you can to black causes, campaigning for black causes, calling out issues when you see them (even at your own detriment).

We can only do this together.

“We revolt simply because... we can no longer breathe.” - Frantz Fanon

This quote has been on my mind long before the outrage we see today. For one to breathe, one needs to be in a sustainable system. The world that we find ourselves in is in need of an entirely new moral imagination and system. It’s not a new conversation but I hope that this wave will bring us to a better place. One where Black people will have agency over their bodies—a redeveloped framework. Including full awareness from white folks around the world that they need to do better.