KAFFIR. When you work through or hear this record book, what runs through your head word? Do you
picture a man with skin the color of the midnight sky, do you see him bending his
muscular body polish up to the dry earth to survival cotton from thorn-ridden plants? Can you
feel the heat of the sun beating down on his charred back? Perhaps you can even taste
the form of sweat swelling from his os frontale and arms. Or whitethornbe you ar more
inclined to visualize a dark-skinned woman with creases in her forehead made by many
years of hard work and endless worrying. You live her as she puts the breakfast
dishes on the table and addresses her owners with a yes sah or yes maam.
There is cipher to cater to her needs. She spends each day taking care of everyone but
herself. Pain. Sorrow. Anguish. Agony. Is this what comes to your mind when you hear
the word KAFFIR? Well, it shouldnt because the word kaffir has nothing to do with
the color of your skin. The word kaffir is just that; a word. It is a term that sprouted
out of ignorance and continues to be utilize to this day exclusively by ignorant people. A
kaffir isnt a put one across term for an African; it is a word that learns the person that uses
it.
This event of person is one who feeds his ego by dehumanizing those around him
when he feels they are not equal to him. He may count on those of different races or
nationalities as bad or dirty because they do not ache the same skin color as he
does or they may cherish beliefs that are contrary to the ones by which he lives his life.
These qualities describe the man who tells his son that...
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