From my days in high-school up to University I was labled as one mentally colonized— one who was lost in the western ways,forgot his identity, became a black man in " the white skin."   One day, dear reader , while in a hited debate, my opponent accused me of being western obsessed, i still, l recall the words he used;  he challenged me in English and kept his point, "nothing western was worth our adoption. But for a true bantu, If his words were true he would have told me the same in our native language...

But so much for a man who strongly believes nothing good has ever, and can ever come from the "white skinned "to challenge me in English.

I was wrong, wrong that I found A frican literature so borering, That I fel in love with Charles Dickens, Shakespeare, not Chinwe Achebe, or Sonyi,I was lost Beyond redemption, they told me. And so I was a ccused. Accused of love, a love that forgives and forgets.

I chose that I would not impute the sins of the old on the new generation, that wrongs were done, and are done.  I should never hate a white brother because his ancestors tradeded mine devoid of mercy. I chose to move on, believing that..

If  God forgives wrongs darker than night, who am i not too?

I a ccuse my country and race men for calling me a betrayer, but in English. For labeling the advent of colonialism as one without any place for  merit and still pride in having studied  in Oxford and Cambridge. Of blaming me for loving Charles Dickens and Shakespeare. Above all,  for being me. I a ccuse my race for blaming the other for calling them the dark continent, yet  they are still too blind to see  because they refuse to.

Last Thoughts 

I am guilty, but only of being innocent. 

Untill then, yours Sincerely 

Noel