Tribalism, Our Racism. Poem by Monkals Kalu

Tribalism; the ugly
Speck that dents the
Same breed, scowling
At the perils of racism.
I'm African, soundly Black!
Outside home, my skin is sin;
Yet I'm not welcome in Soweto
Where my skin naturally syncs.

Look how we are all mad
At the white supremacists,
Yet we greet ourselves with
Nasty fist-bump of tribalism.

OK, which hurts the most?
Is it their deep antipathy
For our color, or Our grody
Aversion for a non tribesman,
Or tribeswoman of same breed?

The air is free and so
Fresh, yet I'm so black
To breathe on a mirror, cos
The fog might just turn black.

To breathe was his right,
But I guess he was too black
To suspire, so life was choked
Out of George, with his neck well
Pinned under his murderer's knee.

Now Motherland mourns.
In black, she mourns her Black,
Even as she bewails the horrors
Of tribalism which painfully, is the
Very plague that threatens the desire
She craves - The Black Unity! Sadly,
We've made Tribalism, Our Racism.