El Muhajir/The Migrant
Marvin X at Ocean Beach, San Francisco
photo Adam Turner
My Arabic name El Muhajir means the migrant or one who travels, i.e., the pilgrim. Mama said I spent all my money on traveling and books, and you know Mama is right. But according to the great historian Chancellor Williams, migrantion is a Kemetic tradition, especially from ancient Kemit and other lands, yes, we were forced to flee over succession rights to the throne and other political intrigues, grazing rights, and ecological factors such as famine and drought. (See Destruction of African Civilization, Chancellor Williams) Then Diop's Cultural Unity of Africa made the case through linguistics and cultural anthropology that the people of Kemit and West Africa are the same people. And then came the forced migration (kidnapping) of the Triangular Trade, after a few centuries we were supposedly emancipated only to suffer another Great Migration from the US South to the North, escaping virtual slavery, neo-feudalism only to suffer wage slavery in the North. Alas, from country blues to urban blues, but blues none the less. In the trauma and terror of multiple migrations, we suffered amnesia that wasn't amnesia because amnesia implies we forgot, but as we know any victim of violent trauma cannot remember the critical source of their trauma. Who hit me in the head? I don't know. The blunt trauma caused a mental paralysis. In our trauma we forgot we played the blues ten thousand years ago as the Malian musician Ali Farka had to remind us when he played with B.B. King and the Rolling Stone. "I don't know what you are talking about the blues because my people have been playing this music for ten thousand years!" (See papers from the Black Muslim Atlantic Conference, Duke University, January 2020)
The migration continues with Blaxit, i.e., Black Americans returning to Africa, among the leaders of Blaxit is my daughter Muhammida El Muhajir, who resides in Accra, Ghana. Throughout North American African history, we think of migration when our geo-political situation becomes overwhelming and we see no way out except all the way out the door of Americana, yes, back through the Door of No Return.
Today there is a global migration crisis, again, caused by political/economic despair, even religious dogmatism, and tribalism. Imagine, the European colonialists never thought the children of the colonized would one day appear at the borders of the colonial Mother countries seeking entrance by the millions. Alas, the colonialists did not and do not truly believe what goes around comes around!
There cannot be systemic racism, the totality of our institutional life cannot be permeated with the toxic residue of our racist white supremacy. After all, we came to civilize the aboriginals, to teach them that Jesus Christ died for their sins of savagery and lack of civility.
From their many gods, we narrowed it down to three, Father, Son, Holy Ghost, wasn't this progress? In our white arrogance, it is not possible that we lost our way and became savages ourselves or were savages all the time. We told the natives to cover themselves, to hide their shame, yet it was not long before we went naked through the streets, night clubs, bars, and concerts. We paraded ourselves as whores on TV, film and social media. We videoed ourselves displaying our genital organs for our lovers and the world to see. We became so savage even Biden in his run for president of the USA, just called for eight year old boys to castrate themselves if they feel they are females. Children are raped from church to Boy Scouts, from Catholic Church to Mosque, to Hollywood and Billionaire sex cults in the name of civility.
So we need to migrate one more time, from the Valley of the Shadow of Death to the Upper Room, for surely we are down here on the ground in the pit of hell with devils who cannot decide to kill babies in the womb or let them grow to become cannon fodder for the military industrial technology university complex.
Where shall we go this time, but any place is better than here.
Ya'um Hajr
We planned to leave for years
We practiced departure to the sea
far inland we traveled
Night day
Didn't matter
made ourselves invisible
Except to each other
a special dye
Only us could see us
Spooks only could see
Snitches could not see us
Devils we passed by
They looked in our eyes
special dye blinded them
We marched on to the sea
On the way we broke down
Prison gates painted inmates
with special dye
They became invisible
joined exodus
devil guns useless
We snatched their guns
Slapped them in the head
Put guns in their mouths
Kept walking to the sea
got to Atlanta
great feast we had
Thousands were feed
celebration dancing lovers met again after long separation
Children rejoiced with parents
No devils could see us
They heard us
Bata drums beat freedom
We walked on dancing in the sun
Into the night
Devil soldiers looked for us
But couldn't see us
Right in their faces
Their guns pointed east west north south to no avail
Sometimes we killed them
Just to let them know
They cannot fight the Power
On we marched
Millions of people
Invisible beautiful powerful invincible
Bata drums driving devils crazy
Can't figure out source of sound
Bata Bata Bata Bata
On to Savannah
To ships invisible
Docked ready to fly over water
Underwater
Ready to take us up away from the devils
Back through the door of no return.
--MARVIN X
9/20
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