The Smoke in the Air Is Not Just Digital
Everywhere you look online today, there’s a heated argument. Not over politics. Not even religion. But between Black people — on different sides of an imaginary line — fighting over who is more “authentic,” who deserves to claim pain, and who has the right to represent what it means to be Black. It’s ugly. It’s divisive. And it’s deadly to our global unity.
Social media has become a battlefield where people with the same skin tone now act like sworn enemies. If you dare to identify with Africa or speak about the power of Pan-Africanism, you’re seen as a traitor, a fool, or worse — a fraud. All because of a mental program that was never written by us but implanted deep within us. This is not natural. It’s not righteous. It’s not progress.
What we’re seeing is a spiritual illness dressed up as culture, a sickness that spreads every time a post goes viral. It smells like smoke — but not from a fire that brings warmth or light. It’s the smoke of self-hate, choking out the possibilities of true Black unity worldwide.
So the question is: Are you inhaling it?
The Poison of Propaganda
For decades, many Black people raised in the West have been taught to look down on Africa. Poor. Primitive. Hopeless. These were the messages blasted through textbooks, movies, news programs, and even jokes on television. What was the goal? To make us ashamed of our true roots. To isolate us. To make us believe we had no brothers or sisters anywhere else. Divide and conquer — the oldest trick in the book.
The people didn’t invent these ideas. The system did. Carefully. Strategically. Even Memorandum 46, a U.S. government document, explicitly warned against allowing Pan-African unity between native Africans and Black Americans. Why? Because they knew the threat it posed to their control. Because if we ever came together, we could no longer be exploited, dominated, or fed lies.
And now, in this age of mass communication, that same propaganda has mutated. It lives in algorithms. It thrives in echo chambers. And it fools many into thinking that hating fellow Africans or immigrants somehow makes them stronger, more proud, or more “pure.” But in truth, it makes us weaker, smaller, and easier to defeat.
The New Plantation: Online Warfare Between Kin
Social media, for all its power, has turned into a digital plantation where mental slavery is the currency. People arguing with each other using European definitions of lineage, citizenship, and identity — completely unaware that the overseers are still in control. Just invisible now.
And what are we fighting for? Likes. Clout. Ego. Nothing that builds. Nothing that heals. Just back-and-forth insults that do nothing for our future. The platforms don’t care. In fact, they reward division. They feed it. They profit off it. And we breathe in the smoke, every single day.
These fights are not about identity — they are about pain. And instead of facing the trauma, the historical betrayal, the forced amnesia, and the shame we’ve been made to feel, many are lashing out at the very people who are trying to wake them up and pull them out of the fire.
The Power They Fear: African Unity
The one thing the enemy has always feared is our connection — not just to each other, but to the land, the culture, the soul of Africa. Africa is not a place of poverty; it is the richest continent on the face of this Earth. In resources. In potential. In strength. That’s why colonial powers scrambled to divide it, occupy it, and distort its image.
If Black people in the West ever joined forces with their continental brothers and sisters — if we ever shared resources, skills, history, and political direction — the game would be over. The exploiters would panic. The parasites would lose their host. Global systems built on our disunity would crumble overnight.
But the first step to stopping this unity is to convince us that it’s impossible. Or worse, that it’s unnecessary. And unfortunately, many are falling for it — proudly, loudly, and publicly.
A Personal Reflection: Born in Babylon, Raised with Vision
I was born in America. My mother is American. My father is Jamaican. But they didn’t raise me to be blind. They taught me beyond what public school tried to feed me. They gave me world history. They gave me pride. And they gave me clarity.
When I looked toward Africa, I saw possibility — not shame. I saw unity — not separation. And now that I’ve lived and built in Africa, I know that everything we were taught about it was a lie. Not by accident, but by design.
So I speak as one of us. I speak as a man who has seen both worlds. And I speak from a place of love — not hate — when I say this: we are fighting the wrong enemy.
Step Away From the Smoke
You can be proud of where you’re from. You can cherish your ancestors. You can honor your struggle. But none of that should mean you must disconnect from your African roots. That kind of separation is not pride — it’s poison. It’s the very outcome our enemies hoped for.
Every time we fight over identity, we give them exactly what they want. Every time we mock those who love Africa, we deepen our own oppression. Every time we choose division over unity, we stay locked in chains we can’t even see.
There’s no shame in not knowing. The shame is in refusing to learn. The path back to unity is open — but it requires humility, truth, and a rejection of the social media smoke that clouds our vision.
Step away from the smoke. Breathe in truth. Reclaim your vision.
Because only together — as one people, globally connected — will we ever know true freedom.
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