It is the same sad narrative on repeat. The world watches, the people perform, and the truth—once again—is cast behind the back. How is it that so many so-called Black people survived the worst horrors of captivity—physical oppression, generational poverty, engineered shame—yet today collapse under a cough, a commercial, and a campaign of public health manipulation? It is utter nonsense.
The same people who endured 400 years of slavery, who weathered beatings, starvation, and inner isolation—who built kingdoms and carried truth in their bones—now cannot even function without a blunt in their hand, a burger in their belly, or a prescription in their pocket.
Let’s be clear: this is not about modern illness or medical science. This is about covenant amnesia—a people who were once feared for their unmatched strength, wisdom, and divine favor now reduced to docile dependents, controlled by propaganda and craving the acceptance of their enemies. This is not a failure of communication. This is the judgment of a people who refused to love the truth—that they might be saved.
Even the enemy once acknowledged what many have now forgotten. In the 1943 Funk & Wagnalls Standard Dictionary, the term Negro was defined in part as: "Belonging to the Black race, esp. to the typical African branch of that race... characterized by tall stature and often powerful physique... jaws with large teeth, flat broad nose, everted lips, woolly hair, and dark-brown to sooty-black complexion... of great physical strength and endurance, with mental power second only to the (so-called) white.” Though cloaked in colonial supremacist framing, even this system could not deny the raw physical and intellectual might of the people they oppressed. They tried to bury that truth in condescension, but the record remains.
And going even further back, the 1934 unabridged Webster’s International Dictionary, a massive 15-pound reference tome, echoed similar descriptions. It acknowledged the unique identity and physiological features of the so-called Negro—not as a vague racial category, but as a distinct and identifiable people. It cited their geographic placement in regions like the Sudan and the Congo, and referenced their “woolly hair,” “flat broad nose,” and “sooty-black complexion.” What’s most important is not their racist tone, but what they could not deny: these were a powerful, resilient, identifiable people. The world knew it. The scholars documented it. The systems tried to redefine it. But the truth was visible—etched in our features and in our strength.
They redefined the people by redefining the words. “Negro” became “Black,” and “Black” became a color instead of a covenant. They disconnected the people from the land, the tongue, the history, and the Name. They took away not just the language—but the lineage. Because if you can rename a people, you can reprogram their purpose. And if they forget who they are, they will follow whoever speaks the loudest.
To understand how this strength was undermined in modern times, we must examine The SPARS Pandemic Scenario (2017)—a so-called "futuristic exercise" crafted by the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. It wasn’t just an academic paper. It was a controlled narrative blueprint. Officially framed as a fictional public health scenario, the document walked through a coronavirus-like outbreak between the years 2025 and 2028. But the focus wasn’t on curing disease—it was on controlling behavior.
The 89-page scenario detailed how public health officials, worldwide institutions, and media outlets would manage not the sickness, but the perception. It outlined how to suppress dissent, push experimental vaccines, and normalize censorship. It even rehearsed legal immunity for pharmaceutical companies, predicted neurological side effects, and drafted apology campaigns for injured citizens after it was too late. It stated how influencers and pastors would be used to "guide their communities," and how mistrust—especially in the Black community—would be framed as misinformation. Their words, not ours.
It revealed the underbelly of their strategy: control through fear, obedience through repetition, and submission through weariness. People weren’t supposed to think—they were supposed to comply. And when truth began to surface? The document suggested that apologies and distractions would suffice. There was no remorse—only metrics.
Though written three years before the 2020 PLANDEMIC outbreak, SPARS eerily mirrored what came: silencing of doctors, the media demonizing skeptics, Big Tech flagging truth as “harmful content,” and people losing jobs and rights over refusal to submit. Those who resisted were cast as enemies of health. And once the experimental solution caused undeniable harm, the strategy was to gaslight, deny, and shift the blame.
The battlefield is no longer the plantation—it is perception. The whip is now the algorithm, and the new overseer is the one who tells you what to fear, what to buy, and who to trust. The goal is no longer to beat the body but to numb the mind—to make you forget who you are, who your enemies are, and Who called you by name before you were in the womb.
The weapon of this age is not chains, but comfort. Not lashes, but likes. The people have been lulled to sleep not through fear, but through entertainment. Babylon doesn’t need to beat you if it can distract you. It doesn’t need to kill you if it can addict you to convenience. What Pharaoh could not do with cruelty, modern systems have done with comfort: they’ve turned lions into lambs, warriors into watchers, and covenant people into consumers.
Today, those who turn to Torah are laughed at by their own brothers. Women who cover are mocked by women who undress. Men who lead in righteousness are ridiculed as extreme. But the world never mocks those who bow to sin. Only the obedient are targeted—because obedience convicts the lawless. They do not mock you because you are wrong—they mock because you are a mirror.
And the curses are not coming—they are here. Minds unraveling under pressure. Sons confused about their role. Daughters more unclothed on TikTok than in public. Families divided, generations lost to pills, pixels, and pride. They cried, “Where is the judgment?”—not seeing they are living in it. The land mourns, not because the end is near, but because the people are far from their Source.
Let us remember: our ancestors ate pig slop, yes, but not by choice. And even in that, they engineered, they calculated, and they built. It was the divinely given ingenuity of a broken people, not the nourishment of pigs, that raised the world’s economy.
Yet today, many who claim to be “woke” will sit in a stadium, cheering for grown men chasing a pigskin, wearing tights, and being congratulated for touching a line. The same pig they were commanded not to even touch (Wayyiqra 11:7–8), they now honor as a token of success. How far the mighty have fallen.
Where is the inwardness of Yahudah, who tore lions apart and faced leopards in the wild? Where is the resolve of Dawid, who struck down the lion and bear before taking down Goliath? Where is the fire of Shamshon, who laid waste to a thousand men with nothing but the jawbone of a donkey? These weren’t fairytales—these were real men, real Ibriym, real strength birthed by obedience. What do we see now? Men trembling over tweets, chasing pleasure, and making excuses for rebellion—all while claiming to be “children of the Most High.”
There is a remnant—not loud on platforms, but bold in obedience. They have been hidden, rejected, ridiculed—even by their own. But they are rising. Not for likes. Not for trends. But because YaHU’aH is calling them. These are the ones who mourn for the sins of the people. Who cry between the porch and the altar. Who fast in secret and study in silence. And when YaHU’aH moves—they will move with Him.
Tahilliym 83 told the plan clearly: a confederacy of nations who consulted together with one consent to wipe out the remembrance of Yashar’al. And they did. They renamed them, relocated them, reeducated them, and retold their story with the names removed.
Yet they never destroyed them, because YaHU’aH preserved a remnant. And He allowed the scattering and the hiding of their identity (Dabariym 32:26–27), that the nations might know His Name when He gathers His people again. But make no mistake—not all will return.
Most will not enter the land of promise—not because no one told them, but because they received not the love of the truth (Tasloniqiym Shaniy 2:10). They chose to laugh with liars, to vote for their own oppression, and to bow to the systems that delight in their downfall. YaHU’aH is not mocked. The covenant is not a free-for-all. It is a blood-sealed agreement with a chosen people—those who walk in obedience and turn from wickedness. And that includes Gentiles who graft in, a multitude no man can count, from every tribe, tongue, and nation—but they are not playing games. They saw the deeds of their ancestors and did not walk in them. Many of the children of Ya’aqob have done the opposite—they see their ancestors’ righteousness and run from it.
They will not inherit what they do not guard.
The first will be last. The last will be first. The children of Ya’aqob were the firstborn of the AL’mighty, but many have traded their birthright for fast food, vanity, and vanity-fed religion. The promises are still yes and Ahmayn—but not to the proud, not to the lawless, and not to the mockers.
Yet even now—return. Remember who you are. Recall the strength that moved mountains, split seas, and built cities from nothing. You are the descendants of those who outwitted Pharaoh, who endured Rome, who crossed oceans in chains yet esteemed the Name of YaHU’aH with cracked lips and bleeding backs. You are the children of the lion-hearted—the ones who knew how to survive the unspeakable and still build. You are not weak. You are not lost. You are chosen—but only if you choose Him.
This is the call. Come out of her, My people. Shake off the dust. Wash your garments. Strengthen what remains. Cry aloud and spare not. Return to the covenant, the commandments, the heritage of power. No more leaning on oppressors. No more games with death. No more silence. No more pretending. Stand. Repent. And walk—not in pride, but in purpose. Back to YaHU’aH. Back to life. Back to who you were born to be.
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