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I am black man. I am not of this land, but I am this land.
Hear the black man. The beats beacon our song, the streets beckon our dance.
Hail the black man. Although you steal from me, I create anew.
Know the black man: Gun-beats were my nursery rhymes; nylon strings my solace.
I am black man. My happiness exists, even if you won’t see it.
Chimurenga Renaissance "Pungwe" (the digital demo) has arrived. Take a holistic journey of a Zimbabwe native raised in American poverty; a black man with two homelands but who belonged nowhere. A new culture emerged, history was penned, life was born.
Chimurenga Renaissance. Take the ride.