Sample of ‘The Black Christs of Africa’: Garang, Mandela, Luther, Obama, Kiir…!
Before you read this illustrious piece and its illustrative poems, know that this season in the headlines brings us Garang’s birth, Mandela’s hospitalization, Obama’s visit to Africa, Salva Kiir’s home politics, and so on. All these are summarized in the poems. Thank God, it is Garang’s Birthday and not yet Mandela’s death day!
Today is June 23, 2013. It is Dr. John Garang de Mabior’s Birth Day. Correction: it is his 7th birth day after death. It is his 68th birth day after birth. I mean, it’s not a day; it is a year, a seventh year AD and 68th year AB (after birth). Since we are used to say, Happy Birth Day to You, let me say so to my greatest role model of all: My namesake, Happy Birth Day to You.
What about this? “The Day you die is better than the day you are born…!” (Ecclesiastes 7:1–) From the Good News Bible, once I see the word ‘better’, I am forced by biblical wisdom to revise some taboos. One of the greatest is to wish somebody death. But the Bible is here saying, ‘Die to live’! So should the ICU staff let Mandela go? Of course, he already has died on Facebook, but will never face death on any page of any book.
Er, I have accepted to err socially and air it spiritually: Go Bible! Daringly, I must say, Happy Death Day to You: be it Garang, Mandela or you. The ‘you’ here could be any hero that dies for a just cause, hence the dedication of my book, The Black Christs of Africa’:
Emmanuel J. Christ
He or she or it
That is lain
In the preface to this book, this is what I wrote of my heroes in response to my wife and brothers who cautioned me not to publish the book.
“To me, the answer is this question: come on, guys, during your times as liberation commandos, had John Garang de Mabior or any of your frontline commanders ever commanded you while sitting in Boston or Bolton?” Of course, no. And if so, then, it needs a series of serious gallant Garangs of various capacities, home-based and hope-based sacrificial lambs, not scapegoats, to convince the whole world to understand what is wrong in and with this southern half of our Sudan. Of course, to my varied worried readers, if you sense villainy, call me a rebel, not a devil; but if heroism, call me a daredevil, not a hero in this book.”
ST. JOHN GARANG
His name is John,
Who baptized us with blood,
Fire and spirit of nationalism
In Red Sea, Nile and Mount Senile.
A practical Pastor,
Who preached the message of unity
And peace on the podium of rigidity
In the stadium of dignity.
A dogmatic Doctor,
Who prescribed medicines of freedom
And proscribed injustice and serfdom
with our own toil on our own soil.
A firm farmer,
Who sowed seeds of prosperity,
And self-determination for posterity,
With a nuclear tractor.
A gallant General,
Who led a resistance against the wall of Jericho,
And felled it down,
With a hundredfold armies by a thousandfold enemies.
The Black Christ of Africa: he is
Prophet Moses II,
Martin Luther King II;
He is John the Baptist II,
Beheaded for being big-headed
Against illegitimate inheritance of our Mother.
St. John II is morally alive,
For heroes ne’er mortally die,
They – into political hibernation – dive,
And – in historical metamorphosis – lie
In an actively fossilized volcanic ambush,
To erupt into another hero in arms and bush.
Saint John Garang,
A political martyr and missionary,
The Sent, John Garang,
A historical revolutionary and visionary.
Sudan will never be the same again,
Said John Garang.
“That new saint, than whom nothing purer or more brave was ever led by love of men into conflict and death…will make the gallows glorious like the cross.”
Attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 – 1882)
U.S. poet and essayist.
Referring to John Brown’s execution.
Abandoned, the Blacks became abundant and
Redundant. He saw them resorting to their socio-economic
Idol worshipping as they were damn
Idle. Yet their miserable life that had
Cordoned them off into their health-gagged ghettos (was)
Condoned by their overwhelmingly wealth-gagged geckos.
Reasons, as such, made him braved
Prisons, where he met his comrades
Rot for the very cause. Of course, he’d
Not surrendered to the racial abuse (of)
Apartheid, whose architects’ political
Appetite was the Blacks’ gaping abyss.
Nelson Mandela was the native African
Nail sown under the oppressive, suppressive, exotic cushion.
Because he was annoyed with the unholy spread of Afrikaan racism,
Of course he was anointed with the oily spirit of African nationalism,
Rust or rot never destroyed his vision and mission in captivity as he did
Trust not the harmnesty from the faces of the fascists and the racists.
Downloaded his roles from our African Dinosaurs
–Nailson Man-dela –
Uploaded these roles to our African die-innocents:
Hail Samora Michel.
Hail Garang de Mabior, and all the
Black martyrs of Africa, (the)
Black Christs of Africa.
“I will never ask for amnesty. Not now, not tomorrow, not after tomorrow.”
P.W. Botha, June 1999, Truth and Reconciliation Commission (of South Africa).
MARTIN LUTHER KING II
Martin Luther is King.
He’s not a losers’ king.
The seeds of freedom he has sown,
The seat of reformation he has shown,
Like the white Martin, Luther I,
Who filtered Protestantism from Catholicism,
The Black Martin Luther II,
Fostered protectionism against Racism.
It was from his footstep
In 1955 that Rosa Park,
Of Southern USA, Rose not to pack
For a white passenger.
Turning into a wild messenger,
She defied the white man
And defined the black man
In the history of mankind in America
With the story of man coming from Africa.
It was from her footstep
That women put their fullstop
To mark their marginalization,
To make their realization
In the world all of a sudden.
Like Katipa Banat of South Sudan,
Since 1955, the women battalions,
Warrior wives of battle lions,
Who played their roles in the fights,
Paid and paved the way for their rights.
“It is better to be the widow of a hero than the wife of a coward.”
Dolores Ibárruri (1895 – 1989)
Spanish politician and journalist.
OBAMA, A BASTARD DASTARD WITH A MUSTARD CUSTARD
“About over a millennium ago,
This bastard was here in Obbo,
But when the Luo migrated through Uganda,
From South Sudan to Kenya, and to America,
We’re no longer in his international Agenda,
He is sweating and swearing for his America.”
That’s Mr. Oboma’s selection versus Mr. Obama’s election.
No, not your historical cousin, Mr. Oboma,
His name is corruptibly spelled Mr. Obama.
Though he is a 50-50 African,
He is a 100-percent American,
Swearing ‘Yes We Can’ to the US,
Though sweating ‘No, We Can’ to us.
So I say, be it American election or African selection,
Since he’s lowly, slowly
Mr. Obama is going to win!
He’ll win because he has no political twin.
Not necessarily physical election but history.
If he loses the first term, he’ll win the second term,
Alas, at least for the first time! I’ve for him to sell a story
From Africa; uncle failed twice, sailed thrice: won third time!
Nothing to retard an American bastard seed.
American, he is, but an African mustard seed,
Racially diluted to unite the one-in-two world,
Because he has nothing but the power of word.
Lo, if he’s ancestrally a one Mr. Bastard Dastard,
He economically will serve them mustard custard.
To USA is born a Yankees’ nephew, a Niggers’ cousin!
THE LION OF JUBAH
In his days came
The Lion of Judah,
Armed with armistice and justice,
A lawyer-cum-liberator of Judah,
To lift off the yoke of law
From adulteresses on the list of stoning,
To see free his people
From the spi-ritual yoke of slavery.
Though unto the earth his sole was nailed,
His soul unto heaven was hailed.
His mission today we enjoin,
His vision tomorrow we’ll enjoy,
Continued by his flag bearer,
The Holy Guest.
But before came a Lion of Israel,
The great liberator-cum- prophet,
Who roared in the face of Pharaoh,
And offloaded the boulders of pyramids
From his people in serfdom in Egypt.
He led them across the great Sea of Reed,
Into the Promised Land of freedom in Israel,
Though his body crashed on Mount Carmel,
His vision, his mission rushed in his people,
Furthered by his flag bearer, Joshua.
In our days existed
The Lion of Jubah,
The Lion of Nubah,
The Lion of the Nile,
To relieve his people
Of the buckets of human dung,
Of the yoke of slave trade,
To batter serfdom with his knife,
To barter freedom with his life.
With the message of salvation
From the wilderness of Jordan,
John the Baptist came again
To the wilderness of Sudan.
His vision and mission,
Our chronic drunkenness,
Refueled by spirit of nationalism,
Championed by our Joshua,
Gen. Solver Key.
In the Israelites’ days lived
Other lions of Judah,
On the obverse side of the coin,
With the adverse side of the toil.
Those Judases of Judah,
Once furnished with flakes,
Were punished with plagues,
Or the Promised Land of Canaan opened her mouth
And them were swallowed
Before they opened their mouths
And have Her swallowed.
Lo, Judases of Jubah,
Armed with teeth of injustice,
Once furnished with cornflakes,
And punished with conflicts,
Behold and be warned,
Shouldn’t you shut your mouths,
The Promised Land of Canal will send her moths.
“Ultimately a hero is a man who would argue with Gods, and awakens devils to contest his vision.”
Norman Mailer (1923 – )
U.S. novelist and journalist.
The Presidential Papers
In conclusion, some years back, I wrote this in one of my columns:
But then, the worrying question is: will all these and other categories of heroism qualify for the Sudan Heroes Encyclopedia in our modern history? If yes or no, then what are the criteria used for determining a freedom contributor whose act is deemed heroic? Obviously, in our present context, a heroic act should have a lot to do with nationalism. A hero should be or have been voluntary, courageous and sacrificial towards a noble cause. A villain is the opposite. However, there are, in the history of Sudan, those who are both heroes and villains. Do we include them in the history of heroism and celebrate them on the heroes’ day? Well, due to the length and complexity of the Sudanese liberation struggle, some individuals who initially appeared to have ignited the campaign engine eventually turned out to be doing the opposite. To be fair, their action of heroism and villainy should be put on the balance. But my personal stance is that the fact that they initiated the war makes them heroes of our liberty, hence the heirs of this peace should hold them martyrs, for were it not because of our freedom search, they would not turn villains and died, anyway.
As if that is not enough, the conflict in defining and ordaining a hero has brought my book into sort of conflicting loyalty between my readers and my leaders. This is part of the argument in my preface to ‘The Black Christs of Africa’.
For the magical part of the titles hinted earlier on by a Rev. Father, a Rev. Sister in a bookshop in Juba during my hunt for a publisher insinuated to me that no publisher of Catholic affiliation would ever accept such a blasphemous work unless endorsed by the Pope! One reason, not only have I used the words ‘Rosary’ and ‘Christ’ without spiritual permission and for no spiritually par mission, but also have used for my own objectives the adjectives and nouns like ‘Black’ to quantify Christ, and ‘Christ’ to qualify Black. Two, that the poem number 18 carries the title ‘St. (John Garang)’ without a sanction and sanctification of the Holy Father, the Pope, the only one who confers the title of ‘Saint’ and confirms the status of Sainthood in this world. Although I had to believe her, I had to relieve my conscience that she was speaking for herself or her bookshop, not for the doctrine of her faith.
(In a somewhat justification, any verse that may appear adverse to religion or any version that may appeal to a diversion towards a certain region in this book is but a curative lesion on a particularly negative legion whose main aim may maim the freedom of others. To be specific, The Black Christs of Africa is, therefore, reactive to the human philosophy of fanaticism and extremism, both based on theology and philosophy. I find solace in subscribing to either but both. From this nook and in this book, I am twofold. I would rather embrace philosophy for my foreground and theology from my background. That is why, if asked, the answer is I would neither be a theologian nor a philosopher, I would rather I were a ‘theolosopher’, and the main subject matter in The ‘Black Christs of Africa’ be known as ‘Theolosophy’. Therefore, the Rev. Sister was right not to allow her business used for experimentation of a seemingly otherworldly exploitation.)
To her, not only was this a sacrilege but also a misnomer; calling a politician ‘Saint’ is more or less like a native ‘doctor’ crowning himself ‘pastor’. My attempt was not fertile – but futile – enough to let her believe that the literature nomenclature (literary naming system) applied in and for this book, such as ‘Black Christs’, is poetic just as ‘St. John Garang’ or ‘Freedom Rosary’ is a connotative jargon, a political mumbo jumbo, which has a lot of nothing to do with the denotative meaning of the mother words. This, among others, being the case, I retorted no more on punishing myself with psychologies and resorted once more to publishing by self with apologies, but not without a little go-ahead-boy sort of back-patting from Prof. Taban Lo Liyong. Lo, we go…!