MWENE NYAGA
Member
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2024
- Messages
- 242
Our African race today stands at a crossroads. On one hand, we are surrounded by immense potential natural resources, material wealth, creative genius, and untapped ancestral knowledge. On the other hand, we are chained by ignorance of a principle that once made us great: true economics as spiritual warfare.
It is a harsh truth that, despite individual success stories, the African world today possesses the weakest collective economy among all races. The root of this failure is not poverty; it is amnesia. We have forgotten that economics, in its ancestral African form, is not only about luxury, status, or mere accumulation. It is about power. Collective power. Defensive power. Generational power.
Today, many of our wealthiest African and African-American individuals amass riches, yet their communities remain poor, broken, and vulnerable. Why? Because they were never taught the full spectrum of economics. They were taught a quarter of it, how to earn and accumulate wealth, but not the vital 75%: how to build power structures with that wealth and how to defend what has been built.
True African economics is threefold:
Failure to understand this is why Nigeria, South Africa, and African-American communities, despite vast individual and national wealth, remain geopolitically weak and economically fragmented.
This blindness is not new. Look to the often-praised Mansa Musa, paraded as the "richest man in history." But was the Mali Empire the richest nation in his time? No. His wealth did not translate into national power. Why? Because he failed to use his wealth to uplift and arm his people. He adopted Islam, a foreign religion incompatible with African spiritual-economic principles, and wasted his wealth on pilgrimage and spectacle rather than investing in sustainable power.
Instead of building weapons, he bought them. Instead of learning to engineer guns, he threw gold to impress foreigners. Like too many today, he was seduced by surface power, not sovereign power. The truth? If he had rejected Islam and embraced the Mande economic teachings of Sogolon, the goddess of economic strategy and divine mother of Sundjata, Mali might have stood as the unrivaled power of its age.
But Islam, like Christianity, erased the divine wisdom of our ancestors. It reduced our deities to “kings” and “queens,” making them acceptable to the desert cults of submission. They demoted Sogolon from goddess to mere woman, masking her divine nature to fit Islamic orthodoxy. Yet any honest reading of the Sundjata epic reveals their divinity: transformations into buffaloes, superhuman feats, sacred totems; these are the signs of gods, not mortals.
The tragedy is this: we surrendered not only our gods, but also their teachings. And now, without our economic deities, always goddesses of war and wealth, we have no guide. That is why even our wealthy today rarely preserve generational wealth. They do not see wealth as a tool for advancement or as a mother’s womb for the future.
In African cosmology, the goddesses of economics were also deities of war. Why? Because wealth must be defended. Because the maternal force of the economy births nations only when she is armed. Because community wealth without protection is an invitation to pillage.
We must remember this.
We must reclaim our ancestral economic system, built not on exploitation, but on divine order. A system where wealth builds schools and shields, heals the sick and trains warriors, feeds the people, and fortifies the realm.
We must return to the goddess principle in economics: wealth as womb, wealth as weapon.
Let us once again make economics a spiritual science. Not just a way to gather riches, but a way to uplift generations and defend them with power, dignity, and sacred might.
It is a harsh truth that, despite individual success stories, the African world today possesses the weakest collective economy among all races. The root of this failure is not poverty; it is amnesia. We have forgotten that economics, in its ancestral African form, is not only about luxury, status, or mere accumulation. It is about power. Collective power. Defensive power. Generational power.
Today, many of our wealthiest African and African-American individuals amass riches, yet their communities remain poor, broken, and vulnerable. Why? Because they were never taught the full spectrum of economics. They were taught a quarter of it, how to earn and accumulate wealth, but not the vital 75%: how to build power structures with that wealth and how to defend what has been built.
True African economics is threefold:
- 25% – The collection of wealth through enterprise, trade, and innovation.
- 25% – The reinvestment of that wealth into the community: schools, hospitals, roads, infrastructure.
- 50% – The creation of defensive and offensive systems: military strength, technological sovereignty, and the cultural confidence to protect and expand what has been built.
Failure to understand this is why Nigeria, South Africa, and African-American communities, despite vast individual and national wealth, remain geopolitically weak and economically fragmented.
This blindness is not new. Look to the often-praised Mansa Musa, paraded as the "richest man in history." But was the Mali Empire the richest nation in his time? No. His wealth did not translate into national power. Why? Because he failed to use his wealth to uplift and arm his people. He adopted Islam, a foreign religion incompatible with African spiritual-economic principles, and wasted his wealth on pilgrimage and spectacle rather than investing in sustainable power.
Instead of building weapons, he bought them. Instead of learning to engineer guns, he threw gold to impress foreigners. Like too many today, he was seduced by surface power, not sovereign power. The truth? If he had rejected Islam and embraced the Mande economic teachings of Sogolon, the goddess of economic strategy and divine mother of Sundjata, Mali might have stood as the unrivaled power of its age.
But Islam, like Christianity, erased the divine wisdom of our ancestors. It reduced our deities to “kings” and “queens,” making them acceptable to the desert cults of submission. They demoted Sogolon from goddess to mere woman, masking her divine nature to fit Islamic orthodoxy. Yet any honest reading of the Sundjata epic reveals their divinity: transformations into buffaloes, superhuman feats, sacred totems; these are the signs of gods, not mortals.
The tragedy is this: we surrendered not only our gods, but also their teachings. And now, without our economic deities, always goddesses of war and wealth, we have no guide. That is why even our wealthy today rarely preserve generational wealth. They do not see wealth as a tool for advancement or as a mother’s womb for the future.
In African cosmology, the goddesses of economics were also deities of war. Why? Because wealth must be defended. Because the maternal force of the economy births nations only when she is armed. Because community wealth without protection is an invitation to pillage.
We must remember this.
We must reclaim our ancestral economic system, built not on exploitation, but on divine order. A system where wealth builds schools and shields, heals the sick and trains warriors, feeds the people, and fortifies the realm.
We must return to the goddess principle in economics: wealth as womb, wealth as weapon.
Let us once again make economics a spiritual science. Not just a way to gather riches, but a way to uplift generations and defend them with power, dignity, and sacred might.
