Black Man By Anele Nzimande

Dear Black Man

No one can outrun,

outdo, or match your athleticism.

But answer me this,
Why are you always running?


You’re always running.

Running from good women.
In hope that one day that one day they’ll show up – like a rainbow – after you’re done dancing in the rain.

You’ve never been a good listener; did you know the black girls could sing?
Did you that they sing YOUR praises even when you extinguish their burning light that makes them shine.
Do you know how far a Black Girl’s voice will go?
It’s gone as far as the heavens themselves – sending prayers for you and her children.

Stop running, and eat something.
Feed yourself.
And not just your body, feed your soul.

Your soul is starved.
So eat something.
For your own sake.
And stop running.
Running from responsibility.
And leaving angry black girls in your wake who go on to then raise resentful daughters who look for the kind of love that you could give them in the arms of the sons of other men.

They look for love in music.
In the arms of the sons of other men.
They look for love in music.
In the arms of the sons of other men.

Black man,
I’m not angry.
In fact – I love you with the intensity of ten thousand suns and
I believe in you.

I believe in your brilliance.
In your resilience.
Your resolve.
Your ability to overcome slavery, colonialism and prejudice.

Look how far we’ve come – you’ve made it.
And you don’t have to run anymore.
We’re here – singing a somber hymn, thankful to have witnessed your ascension. The way you’ve inspired us – Mandelas and Obamas – and even the courage you inadvertently created whenever you abandoned us.

I believe in you Black Man.
And now just my OneDayLeader – you’re my Today Leader.


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