There is a growing division happening across the African world, especially between those of us who were born in America and those who have arrived more recently from the continent. This separation is not natural, nor is it accidental. It is carefully engineered. The more I observe it, especially from my vantage point here in Ghana, the clearer it becomes that someone benefits from our disconnection, and it certainly isn’t us.
Many who arrive from African nations enter America, use its systems, and move with a level of access that was created by the blood, struggle, and sacrifice of stolen Africans in the United States. Yet, many refuse to identify with the very people whose labor made their entry possible. Instead of building bonds, there is distance, denial, and an attitude of superiority.
This is painful to witness because even though they share the phenotype, the history, and the origin, they choose not to share the identity. When some say they are Somali, Ghanaian, Ethiopian, or Nigerian—but not Black—it reveals how deeply psychological warfare has worked. It is the same strategy that was used during slavery: divide those who look alike, speak alike, and come from the same land so that they never realize they are stronger together.
While Black America struggles with the trauma of forced displacement, redlining, mass incarceration, voter suppression, and ongoing cultural erasure, others arrive and sidestep that history, benefiting from the open doors without respecting those who kicked them open. This disconnect creates resentment, confusion, and distance that the architects of division count on and need to survive.
This is not a cultural misunderstanding. It is the continuation of a formula written a long time ago: keep African-descended people divided across oceans, tribes, languages, and land. Because if we ever see ourselves as one global people with one foundation, then the world would shift overnight.
Those who control resources, media narratives, government programs, and immigration pipelines understand something that many of us still struggle to accept—Africa is the future and Black unity is the threat. As long as Somalia sees itself as separate from Ghana, and Ghana sees itself as separate from Black America, and Black America sees itself as separate from the Caribbean, then the centuries-old game continues unchallenged.
This divide has shape-shifted into modern forms: ADOS, FBA, native claims, lineage wars, and online factions. None of them emerged naturally. They exploded with the push of algorithms, trending hashtags, and invisible funding. The same digital forces that can ban content instantly can also push division instantly. Nothing that spreads that fast is accidental.
What we witness today is a rebranded Berlin Conference. Instead of European powers slicing Africa into pieces, now the division is psychological. Identity has become the new border. Nations have become the new chains. Labels have become the new overseers. And the tragic part is that many participate willingly, believing they are claiming pride when in truth they are accepting separation.
This disunity works perfectly for those who want Africa open but not empowered, extracted but not united, visited but not controlled by its own children. That is why certain groups are rushed into America with financial and governmental support, while Black Americans who are native to the land continue to fight for rights they should have inherited generations ago. It is a silent disrespect coded in policy.
No one wants to say it directly, but the world knows the truth: if Africans worldwide unite—those abroad and those at home—no foreign power remains superior. A unified Africa would control agriculture, gold, diamonds, lithium, cobalt, cocoa, timber, water, spiritual centers, trade routes, global ports, and natural gas. In other words, the future.
When someone says they are Somali but not Black, or Ghanaian but not African-American, that is not just identity confusion. It is programming. It is colonial residue whispering that tribe outranks ancestry, nationality outranks humanity, and division outranks unity. When we repeat it, we help maintain the very systems that have kept us exploited for centuries.
From America, I watched the division grow. But from Ghana, I now see the root. The world is racing toward Africa because the world knows what Africa is becoming: the next center of power. And those who have dominated us need us to keep arguing, ranking ourselves, creating factions, and calling each other less than.
Because if we ever combine land power with diaspora experience, economic strategy with voting influence, and ancestral wisdom with global technology, then the world would not just shift—it would kneel.
MY FINAL THOUGHTS…
We can no longer afford to see each other as strangers when the world already sees us as the same. Whether we accept it or not, our destiny is tied together. The children of the continent and the children taken from it must reclaim one another.
Unity is not a dream; it is a requirement for survival. The systems that divide us know this, which is why they invest so much energy in keeping the walls high. We do not have to accept the labels given to us when our blood already knows the truth.
If we refuse the trap, refuse the division, and refuse to see each other as rivals, we step into the future that was meant for us. Africa is rising. The diaspora is awakening. New consciousness is forming.
Those who seek to keep us separate have every reason to panic. We have every reason to unite.
The moment we call each other family again, not by nation but by nature, the world will change—and this time, in our favor.
