Saturday 28 December 2019

Listen to me brutha


I saw this poem on the facebook site: 'Australians All at the Crossroads.'

On the site, they say, 'I think by far the most popular posts this year were the poems from the elusive Yajili, who writes only when he wants and only for us.'


Listen to me brutha I’m gonna tell ya straight; You need to deal with all of your self-hate
What you need is a dose of reality; You need to drop the victim mentality
When you always blame the past; That’s when you put us in the grave real fast
Many of us here aint just survivin’, but we’re here today thrivin’
So get up off ya arse and stop blaming Captain Cook; Grab that mirror and take a good look
Because looking back at you there you will see, the only one who can set you free
It’s not the white man who keeps you down; It’s you who decides to wear that frown
It’s up to you to make your life right; It’s up to you to end our plight
When you become a boozer; Then ya become a loser
When you become pot smoker; Then you become a no hoper
Now the ice might actually thrill ya, but I tell ya now, it’s gonna kill ya
We need to use our brilliance and our resilience
Stop seeing white fella as another; You need to see him as ya brotha
Black and white must live in unity; We’re all part of the human community
We are need our kids to grow healthy and strong, not full of hate, because that’s so wrong
So listen to me brutha I’m gonna tell ya straight, you need to listen before it’s too late!

Yajili (Sam)

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Remote Aboriginal settlements have some terrible problems with alcohol, drugs, suicides and violence.  But so many things have become so dangerous to comment on.  Even Aboriginal commentators have wound up with death threats for talking about Aboriginal violence within their own community.



When I set out to write some books about a children's homes, I deliberately set it in Cornwall, Britain, not Australia. That is because there are many Aboriginal kids in care, and whatever you say about Aboriginals, there is someone who is going to claim offence.  It seemed better to avoid the whole issue.






Here are some books from my library. Probably each one of these would be designated as quite unsuitable for reading now. They are no longer politically correct. 


To speak about anything to do with Aboriginals is a minefield.  This is why people keep their opinions to themselves, this is why problems remain undefined, and this is why problems only become worse, not better.

The poem above is by an Aboriginal man. That gives him some immunity, but not much.

He is saying that blaming the white man for all the problems will never, ever solve those problems. Soon it will be Australia Day, and again the constantly angry will be saying that it is not a suitable date because it is 'Invasion Day.'  (If it was any sort of an 'invasion,' it would have had to be the most feeble one in human history.) 





To the left is a painting I did many years ago. I think it might pass today's PC test, but am not at all sure. Someone will always claim offence for something! 

Times are very strange these days, and our speech constrained.   It is a sad thing.


 
















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