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Drummer men, drummer men, fluid loose-limbed rhythm-masters, were you born free?Did you drum? Did you drum? Did you drum
“George Washington/Slave-owner general/Ironic that the father of this country/
Our wise Monk-guru, White winter mane and Douglass beard,Sonny's anOak tree growing outSugar Hill concrete—
“The music is the magic through a raging storm …”
— Abbey Lincoln
Play, Black Girl, play —
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When Ghanaian hospitals run out of basics and power grids fail, it’s not mismanagement; it’s the deliberate unraveling by the west of a society that dared to partner with anti-imperialist neighbors.
