An Ancestral Warning on the Noise That Clouds the Spirit

My Children,

We, whose bones became the soil you now walk upon, whose breath became the wind that carries your prayers, we speak to you now. We have watched you with hearts swelling with pride at your resilience, your creativity, your unbroken spirit. You have taken the tools of your time and built platforms to tell your own stories, and for this, we rejoice.

But we must also speak of a shadow that grows within this light.

We hear a noise—a loud, grating, and incessant noise—that claims to speak for you, but does not speak to you. It does not speak of you. It speaks only of chaos, of lack, of a perpetual state of war with oneself and one's kin.

You call them podcasts. We call them the digital campfire. And around far too many of these fires, the stories being told are not the ones that build the village. They are the stories that burn it down.

We listen, and we hear the echoes of the poison we fought so hard to purge:

• We hear the love of money, not as a tool for liberation, but as an idol that demands the sacrifice of dignity and truth. This is not the prosperity we prayed for through the long nights.
• We hear the division between man and woman, a bitter conflict that weakens the foundation of the family. A house divided against itself, we taught you, cannot stand. Have you forgotten?
• We hear the glorification of vanity, of shallow appearances, and the mockery of depth, of wisdom, of quiet strength. This is not the beauty we cultivated in our souls when the world called us ugly.
• We hear the spirit of the "crabs in a barrel," not as a condition to escape, but as a philosophy to be embraced. You are pulling each other down in the very barrel our ancestors died to overturn.

This is the toxicity you speak of. It is not new. It is the same spirit of destruction wearing new technology.

Why do we say 99% are bad? It is not a literal count, but a spiritual truth. When the majority of the loudest voices are preaching fear, self-hatred, and greed, they drown out the gentle, powerful hum of your true nature. They create a distorted reality where the abnormal is made to seem normal, and the toxic is made to seem strong.

We did not endure the Middle Passage, the lash, the fire hoses, and the noose for you to simply trade one master for another—especially when that new master is a voice from your own community, selling you chains dipped in gold.

Remember who you are. You are the descendants of kings and queens, of inventors and healers, of philosophers and warriors. Your legacy is one of building, creating, and loving against all odds.

Seek out the 1%.
Find the voices that speak of building wealth that lasts seven generations.
Find the voices that teach our history with truth and pride.
Find the voices that heal the rift between man and woman, that honor the divine in each other.
Find the voices that encourage you to plant seeds, to build businesses, to write books, to heal communities, to love your families fiercely.

Turn down the noise so you can hear the hum of your own spirit. That is where we are. That is where your power lies.

Do not let the digital campfire become a pyre for your potential. You are the answer to our prayers. Now, pray with your actions. Build with your words. Heal with your love.

In the everlasting bond of blood and spirit,

The Ancestors