12 Years a Mental Slave!…

Hey readers… This is a piece by my rapper/poet/entreprenuer/economist friend, Gordons. Its an awesome piece about how we  Africans are very oblivious to the fact that we are still under “mental slavery” by our colonial masters.
Its a well crafted beautiful piece that captures the real aspect of “mental slavery” we are subjected to…. Enjoy the read.

True!. Photo Credit: blueprintsforbutterflies

I can still feel the chains, i can still feel the chains
I can still feel the slavery, i dont see the change
I can still feel his pain, i can feel his tears rolling
I can feel the oppression is outstanding
I can see his spirit broken and beaten
but the reason why he is beaten, still beats understanding.
His teacher Mr Sewananya with a stick in his hand
explains… “Ssenabulya i’m caining you for constantly speaking vernacular”
I can see his mind, trying to comprehend
How speaking alittle of his mother tongue in his home town becomes a cause for punishment instead
He pleads with his teacher, his tears begging for freedom
“ohh sebbo nsonyiwa musomesa, nsonyiwa”
The horror breaks my heart, the furious teacher becomes more obliged to teaching him English and more oblivious to the fact that Ssenabulya is a human being, a Ugandan, a Muganda from the same village in Lukaya.

I see her disappointment, she feels betrayed
Standing under a tree on the school compound wearing the dreaded dirty sack, her confidence destroyed
Her schoolmates, classmates and fellow countrymen laugh at her as they pass by
“Look, its Nakawunde, the one who doesnt know English” they mock her as she cries
I can feel her heart lament “i have become a misfit, an outcast because i have failed to grasp what is foreign”
I can feel my anger build inside of me
Those who laugh at her and claim to know more English, it is they that have lost their true identity
We still look at Europe as our master
We constantly discard our culture
because the world is moving forward, and ours is backwards
We continously fight to meet their standards
by slowly degrading what builds and defines us
Technically, they have us where they want us.

So are you free Mr Doctor?
Are you free Mr minister?
Are you free oh young lady in the mini skirt?
Our forefathers might have lost the chains on their ankles
but we have naively put our own brains in shackles.
What defines you as African
beyond what BBC and CNN or Aljazeera potray
Beyond the car you drive, the house you live in, or the job you have.
We have reduced our norms, values, culture to mere topics for research and tourist attractions.
We are worse slaves than our ancestors
We are a shame to our forefathers
We are comfortable with our plight, when we share success of our masters
We disregard those who seek for our freedom
Our mindset is caged to the rigid system
Our leaders are capturing us into this mental slavery
But the key is our mind
Our ancestors, our next generation seek to find
True freedom as Africa.

Thanks for reading. When commenting, please direct your comments to Gordons..



  1. Since its not me who wrote it, i am free to comments. *smiles*.. Gordons this is really awesome work… Very true all of us are still under mental slavery yet we hold our heads high thinking we have freedom. I think learning to accept and appreciate ourselves and culture as Africans however hard it is, is the only way to go!! Thanks for the wake up call. And great work once again!.


  2. HHHhhhmmmm…. I am not one who yields easily to poetry. But I must say this one is a good one. For one reason, it ticks a critical box in my analysis and enjoyment of any poem; the rhymes. I see the writer makes a decent attempt to score high on that. I did not start to enjoy it until the 5th and 6th line. It was at that point it hit a cord in me. I particularly like that the character changed from the boy the girl. In all, I liked it. But I will rather view it as spoken word than as a poem. But then what is the difference between spoken word and poetry.


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