AK-47 in a Wild Why World

Section One:

...the death and birth of a new Africa for Africans
'The black race seems to be on its last legs, on its way to extinction. Unless they summon the will and intelligence and energy to achieve in the next fifty years what they should have organised in the last 50 years, there will be no black Africans left alive on earth by the end of this 21st century...Chinweizu'

This is bitter, this shouldn't be made public, this is so acerbic but I am going to consider it a wake up call to all black Africans all over the world to an imminent danger if we keep hiding in those caves of comfort of self delusion and deception.

Generation comes, generation goes, what man fears most will come upon him, there will be no safe heaven for those who dare run and hide and dine while their wound bleeds, the old will die and rot, their memories will be forgotten, the young will grow and the unborn will come, the unborn will suffer and plunder, the unborn will suffer with the growing Africans when they come, the unborn will plunder and there'll be a greater ruin, the end of peoples, the rot of virtues, the wreck of cultural values, the culture of peoples without a legacy, the rot of people without a guide, a father.

Once we had fathers, now we have none, once we had a home, now we have none, once we had a culture, now we have none, once we have a pride, now we have none, I see a sea of peoples flooding away, there is a great run... single mothers are rife, children without fathers, home without a father, a society, so confused and charged with vigour anoints some blind and deaf individuals to preside over state affairs, they become viciously lawless, there is a great run, Africans are running...their fathers can't see nothing, they're deaf too, their fathers are wining and dining while their wound bleeds, they globe-trot and hide while their wound rot...their present fathers.

The erstwhile fathers did bequeathed a great culture and values, hopes were high for mother Africa and there was a greater tomorrow that never comes but now...There was Jomo Kenyatta, (contd.)

2. The threat of Ignorance and Deceit;
(The Curse of the Black African)
When you lack a sense of self worth, your struggle to impress everyone and everything around you becomes obsessive. At that state of mind, there is a conflict of natural knowledge and imminent blindness to see even one's own face in a mirror. The natural gift of reasoning is threatened so much that a dream of fantasy of an ideal world of our own, made by us and controlled by us rules the humanity in us.
Our poverty, our crimes and failures all emanated from a sheer threat of ignorance to address our own myriads of teething problems, natural wisdom will teach us that a garden of flowers unattended to will be overgrown by weeds overnight, like my dear 'Mr. Don't Touch and the flashy white car' he was so conceited in his prime acquisition, silver-spooned kids and some personal comfort while his entire community lived in total darkness that the knowledge of 'human insecurity' eluded him.

First, he had built his spider-web palace without fenced walls, he was such a force not to dare in his little imagination those days, the ability to speak proper English was one added weapon, and he had always used that word 'Don't touch my car since we could neither tell what that means nor pronounce it correctly we assumed it was his own 'magic words' he got from his white teachers... Mr. Mba was so pleased, at his stupid unmatched profile.

As the day unfolds, the threat of poverty and lack was becoming so unbearable that one day...,  (contd.)

Section Two: (Humour)
How does a pig eat?
These kids were staring at Uncle Bobby as he hurriedly devours a plate of rice and dodo at Mama Gee's house, feeling very uncomfortable he asked; my children why are you looking at me like that? Babingo, Mama Gee's youngest daughter quickly quipped in;
"We want so see how a pig eats"
A pig? Queried the puzzled Uncle Bobby, "but I am not a pig".
Em' em' ehen... "But my mama says you eat like a pig", chirped the little girl.
His mouth dropped; while he was yet to recover from the first shock,
Mama Gee's 3-year-old boy quipped in; "and my mama says you always come to visit when the food is ready. Is it not so"?

Section Three: (Poetry)
I love you Money
How I love you money
How I crave to own you
O' money, why the hell you can't grow Like grass in the field?

This man killed six humble souls that worked for him
Locked them cor