Why I Stopped Pushing Pan-Africanism & Ethiopianism As A Garveyite: Dissecting The Living Philosophies

About a year ago, I found myself in a very interesting place.

As a Garveyite, I started to view the concept of Pan Africanism and Ethiopianism as a cold case file.

The data is piling up, yet I can't seem to put it all together.

A never-ending can of worms.

The more you dig, the deeper it gets.

A philosophy that felt right, but somehow seemed like a fleeting illusion.

It took me a while to digest.

Although, if I am being completely honest, I am not quite sure I am done digesting.

As a part of my spiritual journey, I turned to the teachings of Marcus Garvey and held them dear to my heart.

I embraced the core tenets of his philosophy:

Black Nationalism.

Pan Africanism.

Ethiopianism.

I even created a social media account dedicated to teaching these living philosophies.

But the more I climbed into the heights of Pan Africanism and Ethiopianism, the more exposed I became to truths I simply could not deny.

It all started when I began reading literature that took a more objective view of the Rastafari movement in Jamaica.

I was exposed to the knowledge that for years, generations of Jamaicans and other Caribbean people who repatriated to Ethiopia have struggled to be recognised by the government.

They are not automatically viewed as Africans simply because of their ancestry, and questions surrounding citizenship and belonging have persisted.

That shook me.

But another thing shook me even more.

I began widening my network.

I made international ties, particularly with people from the Motherland.

And none of them

and I mean none of them

saw me or viewed me as one of their own.

My ideologies of repatriation at the time seemed amusing and alien to them.

When I spoke about African cultures that my country, Jamaica, deemed to be traditional

Bandana.

Anansi stories.

Jonkonnu.

Amongst others.

They were told me thiose are Western.

Non-traditional.

Whitewashed.

Contemporary.

Bear with me here.

I will no longer exhaust you with examples.

But what I am trying to say is that this got me thinking.

What do I really know about Africa?

Why do I really want to go there?

Why do Africans not necessarily see me

well... see us, Caribbean people

as their own?

And I had to ask myself an uncomfortable question.

Is it possible that ancestry and belonging are not the same thing?

Perhaps the question isn't whether we are African.

Perhaps the question is whether ancestry alone is enough to constitute belonging.

Because the truth is, I am Jamaican.

I am Caribbean.

I am African-descended.

And those things can exist simultaneously.

But culturally?

Historically?

Socially?

We have become our own people.

Perhaps we are not simply Africans who happen to live in the Caribbean.

Perhaps we are Caribbean people with African roots.

And that distinction matters.

I heard a saying once from a prominent Pan Africanist figure that the affairs of the Black man hinge on Africa's advancement and repatriation.

But let us be honest.

How does repatriation fix the crippling issues of the Black man?

How does relocation mend the deep wounds that are still bleeding from generation to generation?

How does focusing on the advancement of Africa elevate the state of the Black man who does not necessarily even feel recognised as African?

I may be scrutinised for this.

But I will say it.

Repatriation is a bandaid fix.

Not because I believe returning to Africa has no value.

But because geographical relocation, by itself, cannot repair a psychological, cultural and spiritual wound.

Yes.

Our ancestors were ripped away from their homes and taken into foreign lands forcefully.

That is an undeniable wound.

But us going back does not automatically change anything.

Because what happens if we go back "home" with the same mindset?

The same attitude.

The same discord.

The same scarcity.

The same limiting belief systems.

The same internal wounds.

You can repatriate the body without repatriating the consciousness.

And that is where my questioning began to deepen.

The truth is, I feel far from Africa.

I feel privy and isolated.

Abandoned and alienated.

Why would I want to move to a country where I may not be seen as one of their own?

Why should I see Ethiopia as Zion when people who have repatriated there are still fighting to establish their belonging?

Why should I force myself into an identity that does not feel reciprocal?

Bob Marley.

Usain Bolt.

Patties.

Red Stripe.

Jerk chicken.

That is what some people immediately think when they see me.

Not "My sister."... "My brother."

And perhaps this is where the romanticism of repatriation began to collapse for me.

It started sounding like a beautiful idea that did not necessarily translate into a practical reality.

A fleeting illusion...

And so I began asking another question:

What if we stop looking elsewhere for the solution?

I began leaning more towards Black Nationalism, not necessarily as a call for isolation, but as a practical ideal of Black self-sufficiency wherever Black people are.

Because what if the real power is not simply in returning to Africa?

What if the power is in becoming self-sufficient?

Imagine.

Controlling the food we eat.

Building our own agricultural systems.

Creating and supporting Black-owned businesses.

Keeping currency circulating within our communities.

Building educational systems that teach our children who they are.

Dismantling whitewashed information.

Reinforcing that slavery is not the entirety of our history, but a part of the story of ancestors who were also Kings, Queens, Emperors, Empresses, scientists, mathematicians, astrologers, skilled craftsmen and world conquerors.

Imagine a generation of children who know this before the world tells them otherwise.

Imagine us educating ourselves.

Feeding ourselves.

Building for ourselves.

Protecting our communities.

Taking care of our own.

If you're seeing the picture with me...

That sounds more powerful than simply waiting for reparations.

And I want to be clear.

I believe reparations matter.

The injustice happened.

The wealth extracted was real.

The displacement was real.

The violence was real.

But even if Jamaica receives reparations, I have to ask:

How far will the needle move?

And for how long?

Is money what will solve our problems?

Or is the problem more deeply entrenched?

Because what happens when the money runs out?

What happens when another generation inherits the same scarcity?

The same division?

The same lack of infrastructure?

The same dependency?

Perhaps the question isn't only:

"What are they going to give us?"

Perhaps we should also be asking:

"What are we capable of building?"

And this is where my previous offering, The Epigenetics of Love, continues to return to me.

Physical action is not the permanent fix.

Where is the Black man to look for the answers?

What is the solution to the centuries of problems choking us?

Perhaps the answers begin within.

With self.

Because self-sufficiency is a dangerous idea.

Imagine a people who do not need to constantly look outside themselves for survival.

Imagine controlling the food we eat.

Creating our own systems.

Building our own businesses.

Educating our own children.

Keeping wealth within the community.

Healing our relationships with one another.

Healing our relationship with ourselves.

That is power.

And this all begins within.

The epigenetics of love.

The intentional rewriting of the trauma we have inherited.

The rewriting of stories of discord.

Scarcity.

Fear.

Abandonment.

Wounded inner children.

Generational survival.

Because perhaps we cannot build a new world using the consciousness that created the old one.

Perhaps the revolution has to happen within us first.

This is not merely a physical action.

It is a spiritual task that one must undertake.

We must rise in love.

Face our shadows.

Intentionally show up as the best versions of ourselves.

Become hungry for self-sufficiency.

Become disciplined.

Become conscious.

Become united.

And perhaps this is where I began to see the limitation in some of my previous thinking.

I was looking at Africa as the answer.

But perhaps Africa was never supposed to be the answer to everything.

Perhaps Africa is a part of the story.

A motherland.

An ancestral connection.

A source of history.

But the responsibility of healing what happened to us cannot simply be outsourced to a geographical location.

We cannot keep looking outward for what has to be built inward.

The solutions to the problems we face are already here.

They are within us.

Within our communities.

Within our creativity.

Within our hands.

Within our ability to organize.

Within our ability to love one another.

Within our ability to become something different.

And perhaps that is the real work.

Not simply returning to where our ancestors came from.

But becoming the people our descendants deserve.

Maybe the real question isn't:

Which ideology will save us?

Maybe the question is:

Are we willing to become the people capable of saving ourselves?

Who is ready to start?

Who is ready to look within?

Who is ready to reconnect with the ALL-POWERFUL CREATOR?

Who is ready to confront the shadow?

Who is ready to build?

Who is ready to love?

Who is ready to become?

Because perhaps we must become something we have never been before.

A new creation.

Ready to rewrite the ills of the past.

Ready to create something that our children, and their children can inherit without inheriting the same wounds.

Perhaps that is the third and fourth generation we keep talking about.

Not simply generations that inherit our blood.

But generations that inherit a different consciousness.

A different relationship with themselves.

A different relationship with one another.

A different relationship with the Creator.

A different relationship with abundance.

A different relationship with love.

Do not be quick to judge me, beloved.

Rather, sit with me.

Meditate on what I am saying.

I am not claiming to have arrived at the final answer.

I am simply sharing where my journey has taken me.

I once believed repatriation was the answer.

I once believed Pan Africanism was the answer.

I once held Ethiopianism close to my heart.

Today, I am asking different questions.

And perhaps that is what spiritual growth looks like.

Not being afraid to question what once gave you certainty.

Not abandoning the past, but allowing yourself to see it differently.

Not searching endlessly for somewhere to belong.

But becoming deeply rooted in who you are.

The solution is not repatriation of a geographical location

It is the reparation of consciousness

Think on these things...  and be well,

A 🧿🪶