I, General Tetramegistus, Nobunaga, D'yanga, ModdaFuggin Sun Tzu_4Quazulu AKA ''very handsome Black dude'' reject the idea that there is a meaningful Black race in the behavioural or social sense.

My position remains that there is no such thing as a unified "Black race" or "African race" beyond physical appearance. By my definition, race is not simply a matter of skin colour or genetics. Rather, it is defined by shared instinctive behavioural patterns arising from common subconscious priorities. If those priorities are absent, then what exists is merely cosmetic resemblance, not a genuine race in the behavioural or social sense.

From another perspective, the condition of many people originating from the African continent can be understood as the cumulative result of centuries of conquest, slavery, religious domination, colonialism, and cultural disruption. Beginning with the spread of Christianity after AD 325, followed by Islamic expansion in parts of Africa, European colonialism, missionary activity, the transatlantic slave trade, and other forms of exploitation, generations have endured profound psychological, cultural, and social upheaval. If we accept that the people subjected to these forces are human beings like anyone else, then it is reasonable to expect that such prolonged trauma would leave lasting effects, potentially extending across generations through both culture and, some argue, epigenetic mechanisms.

One of our greatest problems is the lack of authentic education. By authentic education, I do not mean acquiring degrees while remaining disconnected from your own history. Someone may earn a PhD in economics yet know more about the history of England than about their own grandparents, their ancestral community, or their cultural inheritance. That may produce employability, but it does not necessarily produce self-knowledge or intellectual independence.

Too often, education rewards the ability to reproduce someone else's historical narrative while neglecting one's own. Consequently, many people are left without the knowledge or confidence to challenge assumptions about themselves or their history. Authentic education should cultivate historical awareness, critical thinking, and self-respect—not merely professional qualifications.

We often point to successful individuals as evidence of collective progress. We celebrate people working at organisations such as NASA or prominent public intellectuals such as Neil deGrasse Tyson. Individual success is admirable, but the more important question is whether that success translates into lasting institutional, educational, or economic advancement for the wider community. Individual achievement alone does not necessarily solve collective problems.

South Africa illustrates another contradiction. Orania continues to exist as a self-governing Afrikaner community with restrictive residency practices. At the same time, South Africa has witnessed repeated outbreaks of violence against African migrants from countries such as Nigeria, Ghana, Zimbabwe, and elsewhere. Instead of solidarity among people who are often grouped together under the label "Black," we have seen episodes of hostility directed at fellow Africans.

This pattern is not unique to South Africa. Ghanaians and Nigerians frequently exchange hostility online and offline. Within Nigeria itself, there are longstanding separatist movements and violent insurgencies. Across the continent, political, ethnic, religious, and regional divisions frequently outweigh any notion of continental unity.

The same contradictions appear within the African diaspora. In the West, "Black unity" is often presented as though it already exists, yet many people's lived experiences suggest something more complicated. I have personally experienced hostility from people of African or Afro-Caribbean heritage that was more intense than anything I have experienced from white individuals. That does not mean every person behaves this way, but it challenges the assumption that shared appearance automatically creates solidarity.

These experiences have led me to question whether many people mistake physical resemblance for genuine kinship. We often assume that because someone looks like us, there must be an instinctive sense of loyalty, shared purpose, or mutual concern. In practice, I have rarely found this to be consistently true.

For me, this is why we need to return to first principles. Rather than silencing those who raise uncomfortable questions, we should examine them honestly. We need a deeper conversation about what genuine love, solidarity, and collective responsibility actually mean.

A society built upon genuine mutual concern naturally develops institutions that protect its people: welfare systems, secure borders, functioning public institutions, and a shared commitment to the common good. Such societies are sustained because people recognise one another as belonging to the same collective project.

My concern is that many who identify as Black assume this collective project already exists simply because of shared physical features. I do not believe the evidence supports that assumption. Looking across the continent and throughout the diaspora, I see persistent fragmentation, competition, and mistrust more often than genuine unity.

For that reason, I reject the idea that there is a meaningful Black race in the behavioural or social sense. Beyond physical appearance, I do not believe there is a sufficiently shared set of instincts, priorities, or patterns of mutual obligation to justify describing it as a unified race in practice. If genuine unity is to exist, it cannot be assumed because of skin colour. It must be consciously built through shared values, historical understanding, mutual responsibility, and authentic love.

So in conclusion, I, General Nobunaga AKA ''very handsome Black dude'' reject the idea that there is a meaningful Black race in the behavioural or social sense and my position remains, until I say otherwise in a public statement.