We are tired
Yet another black person killed by the police for no other reason than that the colour of his skin was seen as justification for him to be murdered. What can I say that has not already been said countless times over? Black people have been using our voices from the slavery abolitionist movement to the civil rights movement to modern day lynchings. Our voices seem to have fallen on deaf ears and my voice is hoarse from screaming. I have expended my energy and time having long conversations with people for them to understand just a miniscule fraction of what black people experience. I am exhausted from second-hand trauma. I come on social media and see several videos of people who look like me slain in the streets, in their homes, in a shop, with callous indifference. Imagine what does that to someone mentally. Relentless images of violence against black bodies, the same calls for justice and the same inaction. Nothing seems to change. And it leaves me with a feeling I know a lot of other black people can relate to – an indescribable mix of despair, helplessness, disgust, anger, frustration, but also numbness and confusion. It’s hard to muster the energy to have to explain why black people are people too and deserve to live. I wanted to refrain from posting anything because I am drained and have already privately discussed with those close to me. But to do my little part in this fight for change I decided to finally write something.