Name Only One Good Thing: A Hilarious Journey Through Humanity's Greatest Illusion

by Repiyah Hentkhepra

Let us play along for a moment. Let us imagine that you were asked in a global panel of thinkers, philosophers, and policy makers to name just one thing; yes, one thing, that the modern world, through its many glittering towers of political leadership, has truly done for the betterment of humanity.

Go ahead. Mention it. Just one.

Democracy? Be serious. Running to elect your oppressor every four years while dancing to the same circus music with different clowns?

Electricity? Ah yes, the miracle of light, which now blinds us to the inner eye. 

Perhaps the internet? The sacred altar of cat videos, fake news, and spiritual confusion.

Okay, let us pick one that most people agree on: communication technology. “At least the world is more connected now,” they say, clutching their radiation-leaking gadgets as though life began at the invention of the smartphone.

Aha! There it is. The one good thing. Communication.

But wait. Let us scratch beneath the glossy screen of WhatsApp and the tyranny of push notifications. 

Has it really improved our ability to communicate? Or has it instead handed us the tools to misunderstand each other faster, at scale, and in multiple languages? The ancestors communicated across villages, across realms, through drums, symbols, dreams, and silence. And somehow, they didn’t require roaming charges.

Today, families sit in the same house, sending each other texts. Lovers break up over emojis. Nations fall over tweets. Communication? My dear, even parrots repeat what they hear.

Our temples taught us the science of vibration and resonance; the knowledge that words are sacred, that speech is breath made visible, and silence is the womb of all truth. But alas, in modern times, people speak just to avoid hearing their own souls. We have many platforms, yet so few connections.

As the Maakheru, Neb Naba Lamoussa Morodenibig often taught, and I rephrase: the world is sick because man has forgotten how to listen. He no longer hears the Earth, and so he destroys her. He no longer listens to his Ancestors, and so he wanders aimlessly.

Tell me, how can a people who no longer listen claim they are now communicating better?

Even the so-called satellite technology; oh, what a wonder, beaming signals through the sky! But ask yourself: does this not mirror the ancestral knowledge of the Dogon, who knew of Sirius B without ever launching a single rocket? Have we really advanced, or did we merely plagiarize Indigenous wisdom and then slap a patent on it?

Our ancestors in Meritah didn’t just talk. They transmitted. They didn’t just speak. They invoked. They didn’t just connect. They communed.

So, the next time someone sings the praises of modern communication, ask them if they know their totem. Ask them when last they heard a message in the wind or received a vision in a dream. Ask them how many of their WhatsApp contacts would answer if they cried out in the spirit realm.

This is not bitterness, no. This is the comedy of it all. Humanity is like a man sitting under a mango tree, starving, because his phone says the market is closed.

One good thing, you asked? Yes. They have helped us realize how much we lost. And in that painful awareness, the path back to our true heritage begins.

Let the record show: the ancestors had WiFi. We just called it alignment.

Pen in hand, Ancestors beside,

Imaya Repiyah!