“Either we aren’t completely there yet, we have to continue to be vigilant and ready to fight injustice. We have to see where God is at work and join in. Continue the fight for liberation of people. I simply cling to a hope, an ever-future hope, of justice and freedom.”

“The stories that shape your faith would have us be patient, ever looking to tomorrow, for us to find justice and freedom. That day was yesterday,” I say.

“We are a people of faith. And a people of stories. The overarching story always resonated with us. How an ancient people rose up to decry oppressive powers. Brought out of slavery in an exodus, only to wander in a desert for generations. When they found their promised land, they were exiled in a land not their own. Stripped of their language, their culture, and their God. Always living in hope of a future exaltation. Too many want to return to Egypt rather than enter the promised land. True freedom is more than creating a comfortable life within the systems of oppression.”

“Speak plain, Bayard, or quit speaking,” I say, not hiding my bored impatience with his pontifications.

“You lack the necessary spirit to speak for us. You are in a dark place, and your voice would threaten to carry us all there with you.”

“Our battle is not yet over. I fear it has just begun.” I turn to the Ijo. “Our liberation, our awakening, our restoration are all a part of our journey from colonization. And at its heart, colonization is an act of violence that only understands violence … and may require violence to throw off its shackles once and for all. I’m not saying that I want war, only that we should prepare for it.”

Wachiru approaches the dais. He lifts his chin, the casual kind of quick tick he used when he performed to make sure his voice reached every corner of the room. “Muungano is about a culture. What we use to maintain our social fabric. Who we are as a people. Our beliefs. Our ideas. Our work continues. We impact the spaces we’re in. Model agency for others. When other communities face challenges, where do they turn? To us. We’re ambassadors of a better way. And we need to live up to that.”

In him, I hear his father’s voice. But the time for Xola has passed. “You advocate for respectability in a time of war.”