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The History vs. The
Mystery
By Dr.Safisha Nzingha Hill
A while back, I was listening to a local
Black radio station, and a brother who was being interviewed about the
Cowboys of Color event made the comment, “Everybody knows that Columbus
discovered America”. I waited for the person who was conducting the
interview to set the record straight and remind the brother that
Columbus made no such discovery; that in fact, he was lost. Besides, how
can a land that is inhabited, and has been cultivated, and operating
under some form of governing body be “discovered”. This lie and others
have dominated society for generations in such a manner that if his
story is correct, Black folk and other folk have done nothing and thus
had made absolutely no contribution to anything, ever.
In my lost days, I too believed in his story. I grew up believing that
Black folks appeared on the earth as slaves. I believed that Jesus was a
white dude with blonde hair and blue eyes. This was his story, the lies,
that were passed down to my mama’s mama mama, and on to me. I grew up
believing that all the angels in heaven were little white babies, who
played the harp all day. And I was convinced that all Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr. wanted was for his four little Black children to hold hands
with little White children. However, as I made my way out of the
wilderness of the lost and con-fooled, and came to the clear and
conscious understanding of who and whose I was, I finally begin to
understand that I too, had a story, my story, which had for too long,
been a mystery.
My story is quite different from his story. My story tells me that
Africans are the first humans on the earth, and the original builders of
civilizations. My story tells me that only the Africans built the
mysterious pyramids that baffled scientist so to the point, that rather
that agree to this, they alleged that aliens came down from outer space
and magically structure these monuments which are considered to be among
the wonders of the world. My story revealed to me that Jesus or Yasawa,
was African, as evident by his wool textured hair, and his burnt brass
colored skin. My story also corrected me in that Dr. Martin Luther King
Jr., was telling the world, perhaps in an indirect way, No Justice, No
Peace.
It’s time to wake up and stop believing the hype about his It is
imperative that we read, study and learn all the truth we can about the
mystery, of our story. We need to understand that Africans not only
developed civilized civilizations, but were the first people, scientist,
physicians, mathematicians, astrologers, and scholars, to ever walk the
earth. We need to know that Christianity came out of Ethiopia, and was
stolen, westernized, then imposed back on us in its tainted form. We
need to recognize that the term Amen, came out of Africa. We need to
know about Hannibal, Nzingha and other brilliant military leaders. When
we know who and whose we are, so that we will know better, and when we
know better, we will do better. Perhaps with this higher sense of
understanding we can achieve total mind liberation, and then my story,
will no longer be a mystery and the lies of his story will be exposed.
Remember the African proverb,”Only when lions have historians, will
hunters cease to be heroes:, and never forget, Aluta Continua
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