Another coloniser in a hoodie

Day 6 #Winterabc26 

Africa and AI — The continent’s place in the global AI conversation

I was born in an era,

Where art held history 

In secret!

For every word,

Reflected the truth

That was hidden to nakedeye.

I was born in an era

Where an artist,

Painted pain & joy

In brush strokes.

For their words & vision

Were never expressed in a prompt.

I was born in an era,

Where a computer

Was just another tool.

Now we live in an era

Where the same is a storyteller

Distorting the rhythm of the art.

I was born in an era

Where the pen that bled on paper

Reflected the heart of where I reign from.

Where words spoken!

Weren't just another piece of information

Generated by a cloud without emotions.

I was born in an era

Where art was a revolution

Holding society accountable

Of the past mistakes culture deemed normal.

Yet now!

The truth is never splashed on walls anymore.

There is no way to escape the movement that have come. While some of the veins that made art enjoyable have now been snatched by machines. We aught to learn to embrace the tech to improve how we craft our art. This could be a plus, but however because most this machines don't reign from Africa, they might distort the meaning of our art. This due to the fact that there training wheels was done by someone who fail to understand the rhythm of the cradle of creation. Due to our inability to beat them we have to embrace before we get left on the sidelines, wondering who is telling bour stories anymore. Before we also lose out on the ability to paint history in our own words. This due to the fact that history has never been told by historians in it's truthfulness but by artist who hide the truth in plain sight. Take for instance the great authors to come from Africa the likes of Tsitsi Dangarembga, Chenua Achebe etc.

Picasso Code

Picture by Alteredsnap from Pexel

Pardon my rudeness as I interject with my perspective

Bombarded with thoughts that were meant to inspire a shift

Now a distant memory of what was once ideal

Contemplating the world of ones and zeros

Striving for perfection in mind and body

elusive of our true selves.

Not long ago, we used to paint skies and oceans

out of the raw desire

Now we impose our desires on screens

Painting a picture that falls short of representing us

Lacking empathy, lacking authenticity

And yet we call it our reality.

Born in the era of progress 

Trepidatious at the concept of a perfect rebel

we lead our spirits to an inevitable demise

Polishing reality to a faultless finish

failing to capture our essence

lost in the lens of reality.

Entangled in algorithms to capture our hearts

Engrossed in the traditions of the past

displayed on the canvases of our minds

Eroded by complacency, creating a culture of dependence

Yearning to be the pioneers of yesteryears in the present

Now recognized as a noble pursuit.

I long to resurrect our true selves

To experience the rawness of genuine emotion

Each imperfect moment striving for perfection

Before attempting to revive the obsolete to script this era.

*****

Despite my admiration of how easily AI has enabled creativity to emerge. I also fear that we have lost the touch of capturing our imperfections that used to make creativity a worthwhile endeavor of self-expression.