Africa: My Africa

I am an African, and what I want is to be an African in Africa. I want to talk of the beautiful continent. I want to talk of a continent that has seen it all and a continent that has it all. I want to talk of generations that went by, and new generations that came and the firm standing Africa. I wish to travel it all and come back to tell stories about it. The stories of history, the stories of genocides; civil war; diseases; of colonialism, poverty; fear; of crime and many there is.  I want to talk of the buoyant, peppy, sunny and frisky that is all over Africa’s face. I want to sit and tell the story of the African identity the one of humanness, uniqueness, Ubuntu and colourful. I want to talk of the unwavering Africa; from the days of early Egypt to the months of Somalia and Tanzania, to the hours of Liberia and Morocco; from the minutes of Rwanda and Malawi to the seconds of the Democratic Republic of Congo. It is Africa’s time. I want to tell those that see Africa with a different eye; an eye that despises this beautiful land and those with an eye that adores it. I want to tell them of the path via Madagascar in the Indian Ocean to the southwest, go via South Africa mother city through the Atlantic aroundabout the Cape Verde to the crown of the head in Tunisia.

I want to talk of the Nile, the Kilimanjaro, the Vitoria falls, the Atlas mountain of Morocco, the Congo River basin that stretches into Angola. I want to go on and on and talk of the crisscrossed plateau of rivers and dense scrums of the Kalahari Desert in Namibia and the parts of Botswana and never forget of the rolling sand dunes of the largest in the world, the Sahara desert. I want to travel and tell stories of Nigeria, Algeria to Zimbabwe, and those from Botswana to Niger, Uganda to Malawi, Sudan to Togo where the sun is always bright, the stars are worth the watch and the moon is just so divine, while the seasons are just so worth the wait and the lush rains always with a feeling of blessings. I want to call it the mother continent for real for it has a mother love, for it is Africa. And I want to hear the roar of the prominent part of this continent, the splendour wild life. I want to wake up to the morning greetings of the white elephant to a much warmer day with the Kenyan zebras, to a playful afternoon with the South African springboks. Then take a tour to the east with the Tanzanian buffalos and go dine with the wild dog hyenas in Mozambique. I want to feel the blazing sun of the Central Africa Republic where I will see the African black mambas. I want take a further north ride to a fishing afternoon in Chad’s Lake Chad and go for rest in the north pools of Libya.

I want to learn more of Africa, the place of many people with lots of tribes and believe. I want to learn of a land of terrible horror and foolishness, one of great compassion and great wisdom. To learn of a land of strong cultures and the proud people, the future mentors of this world, from Kofi Annan to Thabo Mbeki. I want to learn of great history and a bright future of this continent with its heroes and heroines, together with the wise and the confused, custodians and destroyers. I want to learn on the times of the Rwanda genocides, the South African apartheid to the presence of the new Democracy, the African Union, the African Cup of Nations and the legacy of the African World Cup. I want to learn of my Africa, specially made with a shape of a man’s head, a significant of the world brains, the eyes and ears. I want to learn of the mother continent’s waiting till the end of the 2nd world war to see an end of turmoil, gain political independence and decolonisation. All against the note of optimism learn about sons of the soil, from Nkrumah, Jose Dos Santos, and Kenyatta to Nyerere. I want to keep learning of the amazing somersaults of events that caused wonderment even in the continent of political topsy-turvy. I want to learn the plethora of history of great men and women who fought for the betterment of this wonderland. From the times of Haile Selassie to the high seats of Boutros Boutros-Ghali and Kofi Annan. And learn of the inspirational words of Chinua Achebe to the magical life saving surgeon of Chris Bernard. From the unison of visionary of Marcus Garvey, to a martyr African nationalism vision of Patrice Lumumba. I want to be part of the volunteerism of Nigerian Olusegun Obasanjo, to the iconic selflessness of the great sportsman George Weah and the cheerful modesty of Mozambique Maria Mutola.  I want to hear of the early pioneers who were confronted with many obstacles and overcome them with the same determination. The ones who stuck grimly to their task and refusing to accept defeat. The task shared with equal fortitude by men and women and the foundation they so laid which have built up this great continent. From the voices of Mandela, Mugabe and Samora Machel with message that the tolerance and friendliness would be the guiding principle of the real union of a continent.

I want to talk of Africa’s sight that impresses the stranger and gladdens the heart of once returning home from the crown of Tunis to the foot of cape. I want to feel home as the sun burst through the clouds of Sudan, Zambia and Niger and when I see the beams of sunlight that is more eloquent with a popular exponent. I want to enjoy being with men from Madagascar to Swaziland that clad in leopards skins, prance and harangue with extravagance virtues, where greetings come not only from the lips but the heart. I want to busk to the popular songs of Benin the drum beats of Guinea, Senegal and the theatrical performance of dance and songs of Ghana into Burkina Faso, to the fine tuned melodies of Mali and Mauritania. I also want to read Africa’s own stories. The stories that stretch from the islands of the Seychelles deep into the capital of Maseru where I will get the tales told under the lovable shades of the Drakensberg Mountains. For it is only in Africa where there is time to sit and listen to the old guards recites poetry with a taste of a few sonnets in the capitals of Mogadishu and Lilongwe. I want to be in Africa, a place where outsides still think is one place, where the political boarder dividing Harare to Mbabane, Maputo and Lagos are not visible. I want to be here where tourist talk of going to Africa rather than one specific country they are visiting. We are still one after all, despite the setbacks of famine in Ethiopia, an Ebola outbreak and the xenophobic divisions as evidence to the inherent darkness, danger and disorder and fallibility thereof. Indeed all this are the most absurd for a continent with a diverse culture, ethnic and geography embraced form the nations of Ivory Coast, Libya, Mozambique and Angola.

I want to be with a few remaining hunter gatherers in the Kalahari, walk the foundations of the most famous Timbuktu to the rich iconic antiquities of Pharaoh Rule Giza pyramids and watch the migration of the Serengeti. I want to see retracting snow that caps the Kilimanjaro then go to the true great integral cities of Johannesburg, Nairobi and Lagos. I want to photograph the sculptures and paintings of Libya and to watch drama and read literature of Mali. And I want to go jive at the jazzy Nigeria and the dazzling guitar works of the Congolese pop, the Senegalese discos and the haunting blues rhythms of dirges of Zimbabwe. I want to take a camel and ride the ocean of sand of Sahara desert to a fresh breathe of the evergreen forests while resting at the beaches of no return. I want my African destiny where East meet West and North meet south, from the river of thunder the Mosi-oa-Tunya to the Ngorongoro crater of dazzling jewels in Tanzania. I want to take taxi ferries in between the ports of Lake Tanganyika, and feel the monsoon winds and get scared by looks of the Ethiopian wolf. I want to be there with the traditional pastoralist of Maasai to the centralised kingdoms of Uganda, Swaziland and Lesotho and move to cosmopolitan modern face cities of Kampala and Dar-es-Salaam. I want to be frolicking with the cape dolphins to a holy session in the South Africa God’s window and then a rest in the land of the raising sun of the Kruger national park.