africanstories:

5th grade in a small village in Ghana
Photo by Daniel Emami

africanstories:

5th grade in a small village in Ghana

Photo by Daniel Emami

57 notes

africanstories:

"When your grandfather tells you about history, you don’t run to your father and ask if it’s true" - African proverb
More on africanstories.tumblr.com

africanstories:

"When your grandfather tells you about history, you don’t run to your father and ask if it’s true" - African proverb

More on africanstories.tumblr.com

36 notes

africanstories:

From the Ashanti Language, Ghana. 
More on africanstories.tumblr.com

africanstories:

From the Ashanti Language, Ghana. 

More on africanstories.tumblr.com

328 notes

0 plays

A man of this world

Corneille

I was born black and free

I was born in the cold

Cold was home to me
Until I was told
I was really from the South
So I travelled closer to the sun
But you see
Flesh burning heat
Got me crossing the sea
Back to the cold again
So here I am, here I am

I’m a stranger
Anywher I run to
Yes I am, a stranger
And I just can’t seem to 
Find a race I could claim
The roots to my name, but who I am
Is a man of this world

This is my second shot
Winter’s smiling at me
I’m taking this shot
To be all I can be
So the next place I stop
Will be the land of the free
A place where a million of colors and dreams dwell
Sounds like a place to me, where someone might understand
Just who I am, who I am

I’m a stranger
Anywher I run to
Yes I am, a stranger
And I just can’t seem to 
Find a race I could claim
The roots to my name, but who I am
Is a man of this world

Now there’i this fuss about color
And everybody needs to belong
But take a minute to consider my perspective
You see, black kicked me out once
And white took me in
But white looked at me once
And nearly spat my skin
I’m so confused, I’m so confused
About who I should hate
I figure I’ll just love them all

I’m a stranger
Anywher I run to
Yes I am, a stranger
And I just can’t seem to 
Find a race I could claim
The roots to my name, but who I am
Is a man of this world

2 notes

655 plays

djrimbaud:


AIMÉ CÉSAIRE •• CHANSON DE L’HIPPOCAMPE


Musique : Philippe-Georges Ahmon
Interprète : Raphaëlle Eva


petit cheval hors du temps enfui
bravant les lès du vent et la vague et le sable turbulent
petit cheval
          dos cambré que salpêtre le vent
tête basse vers le cri des juments
petit cheval sans nageoire
                    sans mémoire
débris de fin de course et sédition de continents
fier petit cheval têtu d’amours supputées
mal arrachés au sifflement des mares

un jour rétif
          nous t’enfourcherons

et tu galoperas petit cheval
sans peur
vrai dans le vent le sel et le varech


Moi, laminaire

1 note

peaunoire:

Je parle de millions d’hommes à qui on a inculqué savamment la peur, le complexe d’infériorité, le tremblement, l’agenouillement, le désespoir, le larbinisme.

 

Aimé Césaire, Discours sur le Colonialisme

4 notes

Bollywood movie recommendation : Devdas (2002)

Soleil et eau

Aimé Césaire        

Recueil : “Cadastres”


Mon eau n’écoute pas mon eau chante comme un secret Mon eau ne chante pas mon eau exulte comme un secret Mon eau travaille et à travers tout roseau exulte jusqu’au lait du rire Mon eau est un petit enfant mon eau est un sourd mon eau est un géant qui te tient sur la poitrine un lion ô vin vaste immense par le basilic de ton regard complice et somptueux.

Soleil et eau

Aimé Césaire        
Recueil : “Cadastres”

Mon eau n’écoute pas
mon eau chante comme un secret
Mon eau ne chante pas
mon eau exulte comme un secret
Mon eau travaille
et à travers tout roseau exulte
jusqu’au lait du rire
Mon eau est un petit enfant
mon eau est un sourd
mon eau est un géant qui te tient sur la poitrine un lion
ô vin
vaste immense
par le basilic de ton regard complice et somptueux.

7 notes

Ecstasy

Cover mine eyes, O my Love! 
Mine eyes that are weary of bliss 
As of light that is poignant and strong 
O silence my lips with a kiss, 
My lips that are weary of song! 
Shelter my soul, O my love! 
My soul is bent low with the pain 
And the burden of love, like the grace 
Of a flower that is smitten with rain: 
O shelter my soul from thy face! 

Sarojini Naidu

Sade: Nigerian singer and songwritter

Clouds and Waves

Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-
"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon.”
I ask, “But how am I to get up to you ?”
They answer, “Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your
hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds.”
"My mother is waiting for me at home, "I say, "How can I leave
her and come?”
Then they smile and float away.
But I know a nicer game than that, mother.
I shall be the cloud and you the moon.
I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will
be the blue sky.
The folk who live in the waves call out to me-
"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know
not where we pass.”
I ask, “But how am I to join you?”
They tell me, “Come to the edge of the shore and stand with
your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves.”
I say, “My mother always wants me at home in the everything-
how can I leave her and go?”
They smile, dance and pass by.
But I know a better game than that.
I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with
laughter.
And no one in the world will know where we both are. 

By Rabindranath Tagore

Girl

Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap;wash the color clothes on Tuesday and put them on the clothesline to dry;

don’t walk barehead in the hot sun;
cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil;
soak your little cloths right after you take them off;
when buying cotton to make yourself a nice blouse, be sure that it doesn’t have gum on it, because that way it won’t hold up well after a wash;

soak salt fish overnight before you cook it;
is it true that you sing benna in Sunday school?;
always eat your food in such a way that it won’t turn someone else’s stomach;

on Sundays try to walk like a lady and not like the slut you are so bent on becoming;
don’t sing benna in Sunday school;
you mustn’t speak to wharf-rat boys, not even to give directions;

don’t eat fruits on the street - flies will follow you;
but I don’t sing benna on Sundays at all and never in Sunday school;

this is how to sew on a button;
this is how to make a buttonhole for the button you have just sewed on;
this is how to hem a dress when you see the hem coming down and to prevent yourself from looking like the slut you are so bent on becoming;

this is how you iron your father’s khaki shirt so that it doesn’t have a crease;
this is how you iron your father’s khaki pants so that they don’t have a crease;
this is how you grow okra - far from the house, because okra tree harbors red ants;

when you are growing dasheen, make sure it gets plenty of water or else it makes your throat itch when you are eating it;
this is how you sweep a corner;
this is how you sweep a whole house;
this is how you sweep a yard;

this is how you smile to someone you don’t like too much;
this is how you smile at someone you don’t like at all;
this is how you smile to someone you like completely; 

this is how you set a table for tea;
this is how you set a table for dinner;
this is how you set a table for dinner with an important guest;
this is how you set a table for lunch;
this is how you set a table for breakfast;

this is how to behave in the presence of men who don’t know you very well, and this way they won’t recognize immediately the slut I have warned you against becoming;

be sure to wash every day, even if it is with your own spit;
don’t swat down to play marbles - you are not a boy, you know;
don’t pick people’s flowers - you might catch something;
don’t throw stones at blackbirds, because it might not be a blackbird at all;

this is how to make a bread pudding;
this is how to make doukona;
this is how to make pepper pot;
this is how to make a good medicine for a cold; 
this is how to make a good medicine to throw away a child before it even becomes a child; 

this is how to catch a fish;
this is how to throw back a fish you don’t like and that way something bad won’t fall on you;
this is how to bully a man; 

this is how a man bullies you;
this is how to love a man, and if this doesn’t work there are other ways, and if they don’t work don’t feel too bad about giving up;
this is how to spit up in the air if you feel like it, and this is how to move quick so that it doesn’t fall on you;

this is how to make ends meet;
always squeeze bread to make sure it’s fresh;
but what if the baker won’t let me feel the bread?;
you mean to say that after all you are really going to be the kind of woman who the baker won’t let near the bread?

by Jamaica Kincaid.