In 2014 I met a young man from France. In the short space of 30 minutes, we had a great conversation about art, destiny, beliefs, doctrines and passions. His parting remark was a comment about “people like me” – “white Africans”
This was new to him, something unexpected, something mysterious, something until he had come to Africa, he had not previously thought about or considered, and I was one!
He seemed extraordinarily happy to meet one!
I am an African
I am an African and sometimes – even I forget it, forget that it is essentially who I am, that being African has forged my character, defined my belief system and made me who I am.
It has made me strong and independent.
More accepting of differences and political change.
It has made me physical and outdoor-centric. Tough and handy.
It has taught me about prejudice, tolerance, diversity, war, impermanence, of always expecting the unexpected, of dictators, despots and crackpots. I have seen the results of greed.
It has shown me famine and strife and life unfair.
I am wiser and braver.
I fear less and am more appreciative and more grateful than perhaps if I were from somewhere else.
I have learned to embrace differences, understand the struggles, repression and oppression
I appreciate nature’s beauty and harshness, unspoiled landscapes and wildlife in their natural habitat.
Being African is the essence of me, one aligned to the elements, to the earth with some heritage, but no culture, no tribe, somewhat detached, because I am a white African,
but African nevertheless!
I have learned to embrace all of what being African means in spite of or despite of the wrongs, the wars, the beauty, the defiance and pride, the imbalance of wealth, of desperate poverty, inequality, race, repression and oppression, of hope and charity and of a will and strength not seen, anywhere else.
I am glad. I am proud. I am African.
© Chapter Six
Chapter Six 