"...E Perdida di cunucu, y cu su perdida ta hacie dolor te awe, cu e no por cana den su cunucu. Contando mi di su dolor, mi ta sinti perdida di mi mesun trabou y literatura. Cada bes mi corda, mi ta sinti cu nos a wordo atrasa. Ta manera nan a bay cu mi curason, yiu di mi mama."
"...E Perdida di cunucu, y cu su perdida ta hacie dolor te awe, cu e no por cana den su cunucu. Contando mi di su dolor, mi ta sinti perdida di mi mesun trabou y literatura. Cada bes mi corda, mi ta sinti cu nos a wordo atrasa. Ta manera nan a bay cu mi curason, yiu di mi mama."
A simple reminder that Elon Musk, among other billionaires, plunder Indigenous communities for territories full of lithium(+other resources) to fuel Western expansions and technological innovations.
This is a part of the current situation, however there is a way other than this
Mino ta loko ni stranjo, mi ta yiu di mi grandinan. Den dolor y orguyo mi a siña mas cu museo archeologico por bisa, y mas cu un colonista por kere y prueba cu intencion di invalida mi existencia.
Saki ta conta pa bo persona, ami, nos tur.
Tin un storia cu no a wordo lubida.
Mi nomber ta Chayo, ami ta Caquetio, un spirito bibo.
Mi a bin, den nomber di Creador y antepasado, pa corda ken nos ta, pa nos reuni bek cu nos Ser, nos storia.
Keda pendiente.
E mester wordo bisa, cu e institutonan presente no ta representa nos storia, como Caquetio, ni Arubiano, y no por riba un base colonial y ageno (eurocentrico).
A pasa den un lucha sumamente grandi pa por a yega bek na nos storia y ken nos ta.
Si, como Caquetio, Arubiano, of visitante y rumannan di otro nacion, como un hende humano cu un alma.
Ta listo pa corda y conta nos storia berdadero, y sigi cana nos caminda.
There once was a man who became lost... very lost... he could not find his way home... he was in search... it took fear to bring him back, to make him remember... where he stands is not where he is supposed to be...
The westerner wants look clean, but their spirit is dirty... dirty with corruption... their spirit has left their body, they wander for it in all the wrong things... believing this will give them peace...
the cry of infants, chanting birth, creation... the tears of elders telling the story of their lives... only separated by years... but together by wisdom... they, the white men, say they do not like the cry... they silence their children... neglect their elders...