Yesaya Jackson


A poem by Emile Sandey, 2017

My Africa
My Africa, beautiful Africa, Mama Africa.

I knew not you were beautiful,
Until my mind matured,
I thought you were bad,
Until they showed me the worst.

But why my Africa?
Poverty became your identity?
It ate all of your dignity
The beauty of your blackness,
Became your heavy backed burden?

I once learned it,
From my favorite subject,
That you were once a subject,
They took you as an object,
In order to fulfill their project.

And we said to it,
Was just the past,
We have forgiven it,
And it's no longer last.

Why again to my Africa?
Don't you know to take care of your children?

I know you are a good mama,
You are blessed with everything mama.
You can feed the world, cloth it, make it glitter with your golds and diamonds mama,
You are fully contented mama.

Now your children are taken back to centuries,
Where they were less of humans and more of commodities.

It is unacceptable mama Africa.

Stand up and fight for your children,
Crying at nights, wetting pillows won't help you.
Now stand up with your head straight,
Tell the world that you care,
Your children are humans and not commodities or shares.

Shout out loud for everyone to hear,
Pain is too much you cannot bear,
Fight it boldly and be a pioneer.

All because you know the evil of the deed,
And you don't want it to proceed.

Stop slavery in Libya.
Stop slavery in Africa.
Stop slavery in the world.


About the Author
Emile Sandey has studied and graduate from a University of Dodoma, Awarded BA in International Relations (Honors), she organizes talks, teachings and writes poems on all fields of developments. As young diplomat she has earned credibility on her influence in the message of peace and development. Her great passion is to see, Humanity is crowned with respect and dignity in the journey to self realization and development. 

For more information about the author of thus poem
Go to Instagram: @emilesandey


  • Tony36

    Thank you for sharing, always did like that one

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