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Pragmatic, reserved and a deep thinker who loves family, sports especially football where am married to two wives: the first, AC Milan who has my loyalty and the second wife, Manchester United who has all my undying love and pampering, lifestyle and society parties. Need I say the law is more than a profession but a lifestyle for me.

Adekanye Adeyinka Olajide.

I do it for me

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You are here: Home / I CAN'T BREATHE!


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Today, I am writing to my unborn child, to the generation yet to come. I am writing to tell the tales of the world their father, uncle, friend, and stranger lived in so that when I am grey and without teeth or no longer here to tell the story myself, they can have glimpses into how the world treated my generation, which is no different from those before me. I am writing to them so that they can form an idea of the struggles I went through and that of my fathers; some of which I was told by them and others I read from prints of books papered in white and inked in black.

I do not write to you so you can look at me with pity but with pride that I did not let the world penetrate my heart with its derision or fill my soul with hate but that I thrived in the revulsion and never hated another regardless of their beliefs, colour, ideologies, race, religion, or opinions. The truth is that in the words of Eric Garner, who had his life snuffed out of him as you squeeze clothes of water, “I cannot breathe.” I lived in a world where people realised that they could not control the air I breathe but could take us out of that air.

I cannot breathe because I am born black, which is loathed. I cannot breathe because of the colour of my skin, which is considered as dirt, and in the opinion of those who regard themselves as the superior beings; it makes me unequal. I cannot breathe because of my race, tribe, geographic location, demography, and customs. I know you are finding it difficult to comprehend why I struggled to breathe but beloved, I lived in a world where fundamental human rights were subjective; it fell in the nuance of a few magnanimous, powerful, selected few who deemed it maligned once it contravened their expression of pleasure. I lived in a world where my way of life was repugnant based on prejudiced conclusions.

I cannot breathe because of my faith. They said to me when I clung to my faith and remained impenetrable to the corruption of the world that I lacked tolerance and consequently tagged the enemy of the free world, whereas, they imposed their eroded values on me despite listing my freedom to choice. I cannot breathe because the colour of my skin makes me primitive, uncultured, and uncivilized. My dear, constantly, I was assaulted, ridiculed, segregated, and chastised because of my skin colour. My accent brought ludicrous laughter to the mouths of a world tainted with colour and lugubrious mentality.

I cannot breathe because in my time, raising your hands up, which commonly signified surrendering; was measured as a sign of aggression, confrontation, and audacious effrontery. Leading to cruel brutality, maiming, and most times loss of life because my skin colour being black, made me eligible to be considered as inferior, underrated, and a nuisance to be subjugated and hunted like an elephant for its ivory. Other times, being black only qualifies me to being a gladiator, an athlete for the delight of the aggrandised overlords. I cannot breathe because a twelve year old will be gunned down for holding a toy gun by the police who will be acquitted of murder because the child was black.

In my time, being born black and with an African root from a race that never backs down and never retaliates was an automatic passport to being validly abused, reduced, and discriminated against. The colour of my skin was a licence to have life smothered out of my lungs, to have my voice taken from me, and a schemed attempt at significantly controlling world population by eliminating people with a black, glowing, shining, commanding, resilient skin. Although I cannot breathe because my skin colour fetches me, a presumption of guilt, but the music of love continually plays in my soul and no one will ever repress the pride of being black or take my identity from me.

A proud black man,