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Thoughts of a troubled soul
Africa I struggle with my love for you.
Do I love you only when I am with your people and when your fertile soils provide me with the life and dreams that I long for?
Do I love you, only when my heart and mind is free from the piercing judgment, cast by those who see you as inferior?
Why do I find it so difficult to fully embrace you in your entirety-your positives and yes your negatives?
Does that mean I hate who I am and what my origins are?
No! I love myself and my beautiful features, but if I am ashamed of my heritage and hate my own skin that means I haven't fully embraced my roots, so how can I love the tree when I hate the roots?
Africa, like a child robbed of its innocence you need special love, you have been the victim of horrific crimes-genocide, exploitation, wars, diseases and all of these have culminated into self hatred by your children, as well as being despised by the very folks who robbed you of your soul.
Africaaaaaaaa! The sounds from your bosom ripple with great strength, and hope - but equally with great bitterness and despair.
What can I do for you, how can I reconcile the great irony of my love and the deep complexes I face when I am reminded of my heritage.
Africa, oh Africa my soul shall not rest, my eyes shall not shut for a second, my heart shall not stop beating, my words shall never stop flowing, my tears will never run out, my mind will never be appeased, no I will never be comforted, until I can someday light a candle, one that in the midst of the darkness will glow its way into a new day - one that will burn, and in the process consume all the vices that have plagued you for so so long.
Then with the birth of a new day there will be a new Cameroon, a new Somalia, a new Sudan, a new Rwanda, a new Congo...a new Africa
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