The Prodigal African: A Self-Hating Imposter in Foreign Skin

The African is not lost; he has willingly wandered into exile, romancing the very hands that raped his motherland and feeding off the crumbs of a civilization built on the bones of his ancestors. The Prodigal African is not a victim—he is an accomplice in the murder of his own heritage.

He mocks his own reflection, wishing for a paler shade. He sneers at his mother tongue, speaking in accents that make him sound like a malnourished parrot. He has become so intoxicated with Western validation that he wears his chains like jewelry, mistaking servitude for sophistication.

This is the tragedy of modern Africa: its people are free, but their minds remain in bondage.

MENTAL COLONIZATION: WHEN A SLAVE LOVES HIS MASTER

It is not the white man who holds Africa down—it is the African who refuses to rise. The Prodigal African sees his homeland through Western eyes: a jungle of poverty, disease, and corruption. He ignores the fact that the same West he idolizes is built on the blood, sweat, and stolen wealth of his own ancestors.

He will celebrate democracy, yet forget that African empires thrived long before Europe knew the meaning of civilization. He will praise the efficiency of the West, forgetting that his own continent was plundered into dysfunction. He believes the lie that Africa is poor—when in reality, it is the richest continent in the world, funding the prosperity of the very nations he worships.

What kind of fool abandons his own farm to beg for food in a stranger’s house? The Prodigal African does.

THE WHITE WEDDING: AFRICA’S NEW RELIGION

Nowhere is the stupidity of the Prodigal African more apparent than in his weddings. Once, marriage was a sacred union blessed by the elders, rooted in tradition, and celebrated with the whole community. But today, the African man kneels in a rented tuxedo, sweating under a choking tie, reciting vows in a language that does not belong to him.

His bride, drowning in a white dress that symbolizes a culture foreign to her bloodline, wobbles down the aisle in shoes designed for European castles, not African soil. The ceremony is rigid, awkward, lifeless. The spirits of their ancestors watch in silent grief.

And yet, when it is time to pay homage to their true roots, it is reduced to a side ceremony—something “optional.” The real wedding, in their minds, is the Western one.

This is the ultimate betrayal.

While Africans scramble to erase their traditions, white men and Asians flock to African villages for “exotic” weddings, draped in our fabrics, celebrating our customs, eating our food, and honoring the culture we ourselves despise.

What kind of people abandon their inheritance, only to watch others claim it? What kind of people look at gold and call it dirt?

The Prodigal African does.

AFRICANS LOVE FOREIGNERS, BUT FOREIGNERS HATE AFRICA

The Prodigal African is an amusing creature. He will bend over backward to please foreigners, but he will never extend the same courtesy to his own people. He will welcome a white tourist into his home like a king but treat his fellow African like trash. He will insult his own local businesses while overpaying for mediocre Western brands. He will laugh at his own accent but applaud a European for speaking broken Hausa.

Meanwhile, the foreigner looks at him with pity, knowing that a man who does not respect himself can never be respected by others.

The Prodigal African is desperate to be loved by the West, but the West only tolerates him. They will praise him when he dances for them, but they will never truly embrace him. They will let him sit at their table, but he will always be the outsider—the pet, the entertainment, the exotic other.

And when they are done using him, they will discard him like a worn-out rag.

INDIVIDUALISM: THE DISEASE KILLING AFRICA

Africans were never meant to live as islands. We were raised by villages, not by screens. Our wealth was measured in community, not in bank accounts. But the Prodigal African has adopted the Western lie of individualism.

He will rise to success and hoard it for himself. He will climb the ladder and burn it behind him. He will measure his worth by his personal achievements, ignoring the fact that his people are starving. He does not build. He does not share. He does not think beyond himself.

Meanwhile, his Western idols continue to dominate the world—not through individualism, but through systems, generational planning, and collective progress.

The Prodigal African is a fool.

THE RETURN: WILL AFRICANS EVER WAKE UP?

The good news? Some are waking up. Some are rejecting the colonial mindset and reclaiming their identity. Some are turning their backs on Western approval and embracing the power of their heritage.

But not enough have returned home—physically, mentally, and spiritually. Africa will not rise until its people stop seeking validation from outsiders. Africa will not thrive until its people stop begging to be included in a world that was designed to exclude them.

The choice is simple: wake up or remain a slave.

But if the Prodigal African refuses to return, he must remember one thing—there is nothing more pathetic than a man who chooses exile over home.