My African narrative

‘I am not African because I was born in Africa. I am African because Africa was born in me.’ Kwame Nkrumah

‘If you think you are too small to make a difference you have not spent the night with a mosquito’, is an African quote that inspired me to denounce the world’s view of African relevance. To remove the mind of us being a market but the giant we are. If I could write a letter today on the 25th of May the day, we not only celebrate our continent but also celebrate being African, this is a day that is set aside to appreciate the gift that keeps giving within u and beyond us. I would tell a story about a lion that fights in a jungle, the African pride, and my denounce identity. I would continue with the story of a rich culture vast and diverse responsibilities it has. I would talk about the different colors I see when I close my eyes and dream about the beating drums of our ancestors. The sameness we have from the migrations from the north to the west to the south and back up north again. I would retrace the steps of the many kings and queens that triumphed and never gave in to an enforced destiny.

My letter wouldn’t be because I am from a certain tribe or a citizen but because my blood is fed by the land I roam on and my spirit illuminated by the whispers of our solemn ancestors. My African narrative is about beauty, love, and color. It is about laughter shared amongst dancers as they indulge in the vibrance of unity, peace, tranquility, and joy. I see a society diverse but the same with the same stories being told in the brown eyes for we might not share a country but share the same history. For he who overindulges in the world independently has not tasted the different fruits it has to offer and will never know which is good or poisonous.

My African narrative is the one about identity not only for and individual but as a continent. I see us build ourselves to more than what the world says and sees us as for our identity is branded in our souls. For we give the world the gift of Africa they so desire, hunt, kill, and lie to acquire. When you close your eyes, you should see that sacred fire that burns, a gift from God perceived by our ancestors all over Africa. I see a continent not painted by poverty and war but look at the wonders that bring joy to those that know joy for its true form. We live behind the narrative we are given by others for he who beats the drums for a dancing fool is also a fool.

I sat down and googled what it means to be African and the answer I got from our trusted companion was disappointing. It told me of a person and not an African it described us the way the world is bound to see us. It comprehended us to a few lines that lacked identity, the African voice, and our capability. It created an inability to see the objective of our ancestors that cried for liberation and independence. It infused us with the world that watches and feeds of our poverty and disease abandoning us with wounds of their exploitation.

My African narrative is that of the proverb ‘when the roots are deep there is no need to fear the wind.’ So, let us the generation of the new Africa fasten our roots into the soil that was enriched by our ancestors’ roaring chants of victory power and vision. Let us acquire the courage of those that fought for the unknown and died for it. Let us be the African person we are meant to be for us, no longer the slaves nor the receivers of oppression. Let us liberate ourselves from this inflicted bondage that cradles us like a baby and let us suckle on its poisonous tit.