Wednesday 20 March 2013

I am an African



 
In one of my favourite speaches of all time, Thabo Mbeki speaks of what it is to be an African and puts poetically into words what so many of us feel about this land, but are unable to relay to others who have not yet been blessed with a trip to our shores. I wish that I had had this text to use when explaining to my boarding school friends in England that while we don't have lions roaming our streets, we do have lions on our land. Or to the curious European travellors in Zanzibar who wanted to know if Apartheid really did still exist in 2009 (because some random German lady told them that it did!) Or to the African-American who claimed that I could not call myself an African because of the colour of my skin, but he who had never before set foot on African soil could. 


I had to hack back into my Bebo account (remember that predescessor to Facebook) to find this poem which I posted on the site (324 weeks ago it tells me!) I remember clearly the first time that I read it and how it struck such a chord with me. In these words the unknown writer is able to communicate so eliquently how I feel but can't always adequately explain.

Africa
I am an African
Not because I was born there
But because my heart beats with Africa’s
I am an African
Not because my skin is black
But because my mind is engaged by Africa
I am an African
Not because I live on its soil
But because my soul is at home in Africa

When Africa weeps for her children
My cheeks are stained with tears
When Africa honours her elders
My head is bowed in respect
When Africa mourns for her victims
My hands are joined in prayer
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My feet are alive with dancing

I am an African
For her blue skies take my breath away
And my hope for the future is bright
I am an African
For her people greet me as family
And teach me the meaning of community
I am an African
For her wildness quenches my spirit
And brings me closer to the source of life

When the music of Africa beats in the wind
My blood pulses to its rhythm
And I become the essence of music
When the colours of Africa dazzle in the sun
My senses drink in its rainbow
And I become the palette of nature
When the stories of Africa echo round the fire
My feet walk in its pathways
And I become the footprints of history

I am an African
Because she is the cradle of our birth
And nurtures an ancient wisdom
I am an African
Because she lives in the world’s shadow
And bursts with a radiant luminosity
I am an African
Because she is the land of tomorrow
And I recognise her gifts as sacred

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