Wisdom is wealth!
Why the Revision
When I was a child, they told me reindeer's fly, I believed them. They said Santa Claus or Saint Nicholas slid down chimneys and was the bearer of Christmas gifts, I believed them. They also told me that a white man named Jesus Christ died on a cross so that I could be saved from my sins, and again I believed them.
For decades without questions, I trusted the perfect story of golden streets and the fury soon to be imparted by a fiery furnace. For over 30 years, with much vigor I became a missionary with this message, helping to enslave the hearts and minds of many to this teaching of so-called freedom, I was a christian evangelist. Never once did I think to investigate the validity of this subject matter, I merely believed what had been told to me.
Until one day with a zealous heart, I sought to become a better christain and a nobler teacher. This aspiration fostered an intense search into the unadulterated truth and the origin of christianity. Subsequently demanding a thorough probe into American history, religion and spirituality. Adhering to the words “A tree without roots is dead,” (Marcus Garvey.) I understood not only did I need to understand the origin of christianity but it was also vital to understand the foundation of me. The only history I knew about my ancestors began with the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, so this is where I began.
While painfully taking an exhaustive look at the physical, mental and emotional enslavement of my people, I accidentally unearthed the master plan that undergirded the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade; the blueprint for servitude was christanity and its guidebook of standards, was the bible. Religious christianity a tool created for enslavement, and tangled in the hub of its web of lies and deception, is Afrika and the Afrikan people. I had abruptly stumbled into myself; I was an Afrikaan, the one renamed colored, negro, nigger and African american.
I quickly discovered what we as Afrikaans had been taught about the beginning of civilization and who we are, is a lie. The religion christianity as we know it today had been thoughtfully prepared, adopted and presented by the Roman Empire. It’s mission, to control the hearts and minds of those who believe or as it were in the case of the enslaved Afrikaans, a forced discourse for submission. Inside the hands and hearts of European settlers, their book of bible rules, mangled with pieces of fact and fiction, hailed ashore to the already occupied Americas, confidently bearing the image of its creators.
After christianity erected, it filtered back into Afrika, carried by missionaries. Diluting Afrikkan Spirituality and enslaving many to its embellished god. My ancestors became “believers” of this elaborate folktale enticed by trade, heaven, avoidance of hell and physical constraints. But I, on the other hand, had succumbed to it by illiterate choice. My eyes widened with unanswered questions, had we all been duped into thinking we needed to be forgiven and saved from something? I will address this burden in my upcoming book. “Christianity” “My Perspective.”
I have revised “The Man in the Black Suit” not to adjust my life story, these events are engraved in time. The revision is to give adoration to whom it is due. Credit for my survival goes to the “Designer of Humanity,” not to be confused with a conceptualized image named god rendered by a race of people striving to become superior.
As well I give homage to my ancestors, who are now positioned outside of time, and gazing inwardly providing me instructions and guidance, which I am receptive to through my intuition. They continue to encourage me along my journey through time; these are my Heroes! Not to be classified or reclassified as human bodies with wings named angels, but I speak about my lineage, my lifeline, those who continue to live fervently through me, I in them and them in me. I applaud my ancestors, and in the same breath, I ask forgiveness for bestowing tribute to images created by men.
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