Black holidays as I’ve known them have been hecticly traced with tragedy. Unfortunately, all the holidays I have experienced have to do with colonial suffering. This month, at my big age, I found out that a lot of people and institutes in Africa also celebrate Black History Month, something I thought was unique to the experiences of those whose ancestors survived the slave trade, another historic event characterised by Black people suffering. The month came after a long struggle to make sure that Black stories are never lost. I won’t get into the history of it too much, if you’d like a quick history, you can read about it here.
The slave trade and colonial era were undoubtedly an operation of the mass erasing of Black consciousness. A month dedicated to undoing this harm must have been a huge win, considering that the establishment of this this took place between 1970 and 1986 in a more openly and violently racist world. The first celebration kicked of on 2 January till 28 February 1970. Somehow this has moved down to just the 28 days of February and has been clumped up with LGBTQ+ month in the UK.
The decision to have Black History Month in February was in honour of the birth of President Lincoln who is credited for criminalising slavery , and the death of Fredrick Douglass a black former slave and abolitionist.
There is an implication around this that doesn’t sit well with me. Some sense of duplicity I feel when I think that the timing was based on the birth of a white man on a pedestal for admitting that “Black people are people too,” and laying it on the tragic death of a Black man who spent his life fighting to prove this fact and could not enjoy it almost to say ” Celebration for the black people comes throug suffering.” Maybe I’m being too pessimistic in may analysis but something about it highlights the current nature of many African holidays. That they are anchored on the deaths of Black people who died fighting for what they could not experience and exist in the shadow of more lighthearted holidays birthed by white people, like Christmas, Easter Day and April Fool’s Day. Sure we can be a part of the fun, but it is not a fun we designed, it was given to us, and when it’s purely about us, it’s about how much suffering we have apparently overcome.
Maybe I’m just drawing at strings here, but, while I see how Black History Month is worth celebrating, I find it difficult to think of it as less than sad in 2023. If not celebrated, it dismisses efforts put in by Black advocates and activists, if celebrated with full glee then it disregards the fact that this is the bare minimum and that we need to uplift the value of more culturally appreciative holidays. A lot of whitewashing needs to be undone, and many generations have grown with the view that indigenous holidays are ‘evil’, that the bare minimum and assimilation are better than carving out an identity. Let us never forget those who struggled to get us to where we are, and let us move on to honouring who we are. Even if a customary group viewing a holiday is less than a dozen, I still say its better to sing in the joys of the practices that have shaped us, to contribute to the evolution of tradition, rather than to watch customs die and forever sing of the times we suffered like we had no joy.
With that said, happy Black History Month…
ZENZE 