“An echo, a stain,” seems to have bounced into my corner of the blogoshpere in the form of new meme I feel I must contribute to. Not so much that I must, but very much that I should contribute to it. Thanks to Kiwanja for tagging me.
I blog about Africa because I can seemingly do nothing else. I am neither wealthy, powerful, nor connected in any shape or form that could spark a revolution. I may not have a lot, but I do have dreams, I do have a vision for a new Africa, and I have the ability to express that vision on this here platform. My weapon of choice for change in Africa is my heart. I will bleed it dry in all that I do for the love of that red soil that sifts through my toes every time that I step on my mother’s compound. I will bleed it dry for the noise and symphony of Kampala’s chaotic rapture and Nairobi’s thuggish boasts. I will bleed it dry for the love of Victoria Falls’ thunderous crash, Serengeti’s serenity, and Zanzibar Chest-ful of mystery. I am but one man with a voice and a song for Africa.
Africa is Africa’s problem. She is my problem. And I beg of no one else to assist me with her weighty issues.
She is my Africa. And indeed the very same Africa that many of us blog about. The very same dark and mysterious continent that many of us fall in love with and don’t know why. It grips us, hugs us, and shrouds in a warmth we neither understand nor deny. We simply beg for more, and thus dig deeper into it’s belly in futile thrusts to wrap logic around that which cannot be grasped, only felt like a warm thick air one walks through in a drunken stupor. It’s an emasculating realization to stand in her presence and bathe in new-found truth that you are powerless in her presence.
You simply accept defeat, that this largely uncoordinated babe is lumbering forward on a journey to somewhere and in no certain hurry to get there. Rome wasn’t built in a day, neither will Africa. 60+ years removed from colonial rule, we are but Democratic tad poles, the lot of us. We were left to crawl and stumble into this new form of self-governance, after a century of foreign rule. Our day in the sun will come, oh yes it will. But not after more battle scars decorate our knees and blacken our souls—symbols of the price that has to be paid—in the name of progress.
I blog about Africa because I believe that the dawn of our day in the African sun has begun. I cannot hasten the sunrise alone or brighten the rays. But I blog about Africa, so that I am among those early risers who’ve heard the morning drum. I join this chorus of voices to welcome a new era, and new optimism. I may be one man with a song, but together we are a chorus with an anthem!
Africa is our problem. And we hereby take charge of this brand new day!
In the spirit of this meme, I hereby tag my fellow bloggers to share their views: