In Tears in White, Emmah Mabye crafts a scathing metaphor: tears as product—packaged, privileged, and weaponized. Through the sharp device of a mock product description, Mabye exposes how “white tears” hold power to manipulate public empathy and distort historical narratives. Branded with phrases like “unmatched quality,” “stainless character,” and a “lifetime warranty,” these tears function as tools of erasure, shielding systems of oppression. Inspired by witnessing the global imbalance in whose suffering is validated—whether in Ukraine, Gaza, or across African conflicts—Mabye asks: Why do Black tears remain silently dismissed? Though the recent resurgence of the “white genocide” myth in South Africa echoes through the work, her poem speaks to a wider world in which African refugees, displaced communities, and the continent’s grief are persistently sidelined on the global stage.

Tears in White sits at the intersection of poetry and political commentary, articulating how such myths do more than mislead—they erase. By turning a global misinformation campaign into a performative, poetic expose, Mabye reclaims the narrative. The poem resists the sanitization of white supremacy and instead lays bare the generational violence that continues through subtler, institutional means. Tears in White is not just a poem; it’s a poetic truth bomb. It demands that we examine not only what we cry about, but also who gets believed when they cry—and at whose expense.

This global critique resonated with grim immediacy in May 2025 when South African President Cyril Ramaphosa was theatrically confronted at the White House with fabricated “white genocide” imagery—an event staged by Donald Trump and weaponized by far-right figures. Yet Tears in White is not confined to that moment. It interrogates the deeper, ongoing reality: while false narratives of white victimhood gain international traction, the real and continuing traumas of Africa—wars in Sudan, crises in Congo, waves of African refugees seeking asylum—receive little attention, empathy, or action. The poem challenges us to confront: Whose tears move the world? And whose are ignored, disbelieved, or erased?

Directed by Katlego Tshuma, the film’s execution deepens and sharpens the poem’s message. Through deliberate stillness and visual restraint, Tshuma compels viewers into a space of reflection rather than passive observation. Mabye performs on screen—her face, hands, and gaze becoming vessels for the poem’s searing critique. The camera lingers in tight, intimate close-ups, creating an almost claustrophobic proximity that denies the audience emotional distance. Mabye’s still, composed performance resists spectacle, mirroring how Black pain is often expected to perform to be acknowledged. In this stripped-down visual space, every gesture, glance, and pause gains weight. Tshuma’s framing refuses to look away, forcing viewers to confront their own biases and the conditioned hierarchies of empathy. In this way, Tears in White transforms from a poetic critique into a cinematic act of resistance, demanding that audiences not only hear but reckon.