Let’s assume I was born white in North Devon, England. Now, take it easy: being born Black in the exact location is not the same, but I digress.
I am talking about coming from a family whose wealth is at least 300 years old. We are linked to the East India Company, slave ships, and colonial investments. Would I privately curse my ancestors for their role in slavery and colonisation? Would I lose sleep over the blood-soaked foundations of my comfortable life? Let me serve you some truth hotter than African pepper soup: Not a chance!
Hear me before you start typing angry comments. Yes, slavery was an abomination. Yes, colonisation was a crime against humanity. And yes, the effects still haunt Africa today. But suppose you’re giving me a choice. This is between that guy from Devon versus entering this world in Chad. Half the children don’t even make it to their fifth birthday in that world. Honestly, I’ll take the side of privilege, thank you very much. I know you wouldn’t.
The Blood Price of British Comfort
Let’s discuss numbers that’ll make your moral compass spin. The British Museum also holds stolen artefacts. That historical archive on Great Russell Street sits on centuries of compound interest from colonial wealth. It’s no secret that our Narcoqueens and Godfathers send their children to British private schools. Meanwhile, the average Chad citizen lives on less than a British family spends on pet food weekly.
The British built their NHS with African resources. Their universities rose on colonial foundations. Their pensions are paid from interests accumulated through centuries of exploitation. Hard truth: Every bite of crumpet in Devon is buttered with historical privilege.
Am I here to play apologist? Not at all. But let’s face it—colonial reparations aren’t simply about guilt; they’re about creating a world that doesn’t keep profiting from a hierarchy of nations. That world isn’t built by dodging the uncomfortable truth.
The Guilt vs Survival Equation
“But Tiger,” you’ll say, “how can you justify centuries of exploitation?” Please don’t get it twisted; I’m not justifying exploitation. I’m pointing out an ugly truth—acknowledging that privilege, even one inherited, comes with the burden of history. And history is demanding a reckoning, not silence.
Let me summarise this in numbers even our leaders, who have often been forced to navigate economies tangled in global dependency, can understand. A white child born in North Devon today starts life with:
– An NHS number worth more than all the gold in Mali
– Schools that teach rather than collect fees
– Clean water that flows from taps, not promises from politicians
– An 82-year life expectancy instead of our “if God willing” timeline
Meanwhile, in Chad, children inherit:
– A passport that opens doors only to more poverty
– A healthcare system that makes traditional healers look sophisticated
– Schools where teachers show up as rarely as electricity
– Water that carries more diseases than nutrients
– A life expectancy that makes every birthday dependent “God willing”
Am I over-simplifying? Of course, but you get the point, don’t you?
The Performative Guilt of White Descendants
Let’s get one thing straight: the guilt displayed by many white descendants isn’t genuine. In London’s cafes, they sip fair-trade coffee and talk reparations. Then, return to the homes that privilege bought, guilt-free. It’s a moral performance they can turn off the second the conversation ends. Meanwhile, we still face the consequences of their forebears’ actions, with or without their token remorse.
Today’s Reality Check
Here’s where it gets uncomfortable: family. Every year, thousands of young Africans die in the Mediterranean. Why? They are desperate to reach the shores of the same nations that once enslaved their ancestors. Ironic. Our people are dying to be closer to the descendants of the people who butchered, burnt, skinned, raped, drowned, lynched, torched, mutilated, branded, shackled and dehumanised our ancestors.
Those privileged white liberals in every Western city can afford to feel guilty about colonialism while sipping their fair-trade coffee in Notting Hill. Their guilt doesn’t stop them from enjoying its benefits. At least I’m honest enough to admit I’d choose their hypocritical comfort over our authentic poverty.
Chink in the Armour
Now, some of you are furiously typing about morality and historical justice. Yes, my position is as morally bankrupt as an African central bank. Yes, it spits in the face of our ancestors’ suffering. And yes, it might make me sound like a colonial apologist.
Am I saying forget reparations entirely? No. Every act of redress—from repatriated artefacts to accountability in trade—matters. But we can’t sit around waiting for what the West may never willingly give. Real reparations will come from us turning our raw potential into real power.
But let’s be honest: isn’t this exactly why Africa’s brightest and best are fighting for UK visas like it’s the last bus out of hell? From doctors to engineers, we’re not just running from Africa’s problems—we’re running toward the very privilege built on our ancestors’ backs. Our feet are voting more honestly than our mouths are speaking.
Look at today’s world. China is not building roads in Africa because it loves our sunshine. Russia’s not in Mali for the music. The game of empires never stopped; only the players changed.
Tiger’s Roar
Listen up, Africa! While our Narcoqueens and Godfathers cry about reparations, be careful because they will misuse it. I’m here to tell you the real revenge: Let’s build an Africa that makes the West sweat!
Our ancestors didn’t survive chains and whips for us to spend centuries begging their tormentors’ children for visas. The colonial masters didn’t fear our spears—they feared our unity. That’s why they divided us. Today, they don’t fear our complaints—they fear our potential.
Let’s not pretend we’re asking for a handout here. We’re demanding balance in a system that still bleeds Africa dry. We are talking about rigged trade agreements and environmental exploitation. Our ancestors suffered chains, but today’s chains are just as real. Tackling this isn’t charity; it’s the long-overdue return on global debt.
Want real revenge? Let’s build universities that their children will beg to attend. Let’s create healthcare systems that make the NHS look outdated. Let’s turn their “aid” into the spare change they can keep.
The West wrote its success story in our blood. Now, it’s time to write our comeback in their ledgers. Unity isn’t just a word for AU conferences—it’s our weapon of mass construction. Let every African success be a dagger in the heart of those who bet against us.
So keep your reparations talk. Our real compensation will come from building a powerful African that their grandchildren will beg to become like us. That’s not just revenge—that’s revolution!
Redefining Africa’s Narrative: One Audacious Cut at a Time