What If the Neanderthals Were Yours — But Not Anymore?
What if the Neanderthals
were Sub-Saharan?
Born in your sun,
raised in your caves,
heavy-browed and fire-lit,
long before Europe
learned how to bleed.
Would you claim them then?
Would you drape them in flags
and call them kings,
call them “ours,”
if their bones belonged
to the Red Earth?
But here’s the twist:
you barely carry them now.
A trace, a whisper,
flickering in the genome
like a forgotten guest
no longer welcome at the feast.
Meanwhile,
we—
the non-Africans you call outsiders,
you call mixed,
you call alien—
we carry Neanderthal blood
like an echo
you can’t explain.
So what does that mean?
That you birthed something
you couldn't keep?
That you erased your own shadow
while chasing unity?
You say we’re all the same.
But your blood says otherwise.
It tells a different tale—
of parting,
of leaving,
of forgetting
what once walked beside you.
You want to rewrite the map
and keep every piece,
even those
you no longer remember
in your bones.
But genetics doesn’t lie.
It just waits.
It speaks softly
through silence,
saying:
They were yours—
but not anymore.