There are seasons in life that go far beyond the changes of weather. Each season carries lessons about growth, sacrifice, and reward. For individuals and for a people, these seasons reflect the process of planting, germinating, and harvesting. The question is not whether these seasons exist, but whether we recognize them and make use of them.
For the Black community worldwide, these seasons are not abstract. They are real, and they determine whether we rise to independence or remain bound in dependence. Every choice we make as a people shapes the harvest we will one day see. The problem is that too often, what we plant is not for ourselves but for those who take and profit from us.
Planting is the stage where vision begins. It is where we lay down the seeds of knowledge, unity, and strategy. If the seeds are chosen wisely, they will sprout into something powerful. If not, they will feed into the same systems that weaken us.
Germination is the quiet, unseen process. It is the time when the seed is in the ground, hidden, but transforming. Many of us mistake silence for failure, yet this stage is where growth takes root. The community must learn to nurture and protect these seeds instead of abandoning them for quick rewards.
Harvesting is the outcome of all that has been planted and nourished. Too often, the harvest of our people has been stolen, leaving us with scraps of what should have been ours in full. We cannot ignore this reality any longer. The time has come to decide what season we are truly in, and what future we are shaping.
The Season of Planting
Planting is not about farming—it is about foresight. For the Black community, planting means deciding what knowledge, values, and systems we pass on to our children. Are we planting seeds of dependence, teaching them to lean on those who have always taken from us? Or are we planting seeds of independence, self-reliance, and cultural pride?
Nations around the world plant for themselves. They invest in their own industries, build their own systems, and protect their own interests. Meanwhile, too many of us plant seeds in foreign soil, feeding economies, cultures, and powers that have no intention of returning the favor. This is a choice we must face honestly.
Planting also requires sacrifice. No seed can grow without being buried first. For us, this means discipline. It means rejecting short-term gains and distractions that look attractive but offer nothing lasting. If we do not plant wisely, we will have nothing worth harvesting.
The Season of Germination
Germination is patience in action. When a seed is in the soil, its growth is hidden. This is the stage where communities often lose faith, because results are not immediate. Yet growth beneath the surface is just as important as what is seen above ground.
For the Black community, germination is the time of building in silence. It may mean creating businesses that start small, building schools that few notice, or protecting family values when the world is against it. These acts may not look like power at first, but over time they root deeply into the soil of our survival.
The danger is in neglect. If seeds are left without water, they die. If our efforts are not protected, they are stolen. This is what has happened too often in our history. Ideas, labor, and resources are taken before they can grow into full strength. We must learn to shield our seeds until they are strong enough to stand on their own.
The Season of Harvesting
Harvesting is the season of results. It reveals what was planted and what was nurtured. If we planted wisely and protected our seeds, the harvest belongs to us. If not, it becomes another stolen crop that feeds everyone else while leaving us hungry.
In entertainment, in sports, in resources across Africa, the harvest of our talent and land has been taken to enrich others. The world benefits from what we grow, yet our communities remain in lack. This is not just history—it is happening now.
A true harvest for us means control. It means keeping what belongs to us and using it to strengthen ourselves. Until we demand ownership of our own harvest, we will remain the field where others reap their wealth.
The Question of Dependence
Dependence is a trap that turns planting into slavery. Nations that control their own resources plant for their people. They grow their wealth, their influence, and their power. But when a people are dependent, their seeds are stolen before they even sprout.
The Black community across the world has been conditioned to depend. From African nations rich with minerals to communities in the diaspora rich with culture and talent, we see others taking from us while giving little in return. Military bases, foreign corporations, and compromised leaders make sure the harvest never reaches our own tables.
This cycle cannot continue. Dependence means that no matter how much we plant, the harvest will never truly be ours.
The Call to Independence
The lesson of planting, germinating, and harvesting is clear: we must do these things for ourselves. No outside force will protect our seeds. No outside nation will give us the harvest that is rightfully ours. Independence is the only path forward.
This independence is not just political or economic. It is mental and spiritual. It requires us to believe in our ability to plant for ourselves and to protect what we grow. It demands unity, discipline, and an unbreakable commitment to one another.
Other nations prove every day that self-reliance is possible. They build for themselves and refuse to give away their power. The question remains: what season are we in, and are we willing to take control of our own?
Seasons do not wait. They come and they pass. If we fail to plant in the season of planting, we cannot hope to harvest later. If we neglect germination, the seeds will wither. If we allow our harvest to be stolen, our labor will feed others while we starve.
We as a people must ask: what are we planting? Are we putting our energy into systems that rob us, or are we investing in ourselves? Are we protecting the seeds of independence, or leaving them vulnerable to those who have always taken from us?
The time has come to recognize our true season. Some of us may still be planting, some may be nurturing in silence, and some may be ready for the harvest. But together, we must ensure that the harvest strengthens us as a whole, not outsiders who exploit us.
The power of planting, germinating, and harvesting is already within us. It is a natural process, one that every nation must master. The difference is that others plant for themselves while we are told to plant for others. That lie must end.
What season are you in? And more importantly—what season are we, as a people, willing to claim?
