I will sit by the fire tonight,
Here under the stars,
Here surrounded by the desert sands.
And in my hand I will hold a pen,
And on my lap I will place my scroll,
And from my heart I will write.
I have no rubber close by,
See sometimes reality is too harsh to be wiped out,
Too grim to be painted otherwise
The moos, the neighs, the crows are my ambience,
The giggles, the stories, the murmurs my music
The cold desert breeze my aura as I write
Still I seek no comfort or warmth or shelter
No safety or fun in numbers
Because someone needs to write…for Africa
This is an ode for a beautiful Mother,
Strong enough to birth a gazillion cultures
Loving enough to contain them all in one continent
This is a sonnet for an Amazing Land
Capable enough to attract investors
Generous enough to share its wealth with them
This is an elegy for a Home that nurtures in pain
And seldom enjoys the fruits of her labor
Other continents are greener, after all
This is a poem for One that feeds on dust
Every time another African buys wheels
Big enough to drive them away from her
This is a verse for she that bears it all
Quietly and bravely, hopefully
Waiting for a different generation
A generation like ours
One that is capable
Still one that refuses to simply
Let go of pride and work…
What is poverty if we cannot fight it?
What is good health if we cannot provide it?
What is development if we cannot envision it?
Propagate it, live it, give it to a land so deserving?
Will we all grow up here,
Play in the mud and rocky trails
Swim in the rivers and catch fish
Until we are old enough
To erode the soils,
Mine the rocks,
Pollute the rivers
Kill the fish?
Will we never look back
And pay homage to a land that
Are we really so ungrateful
As to kill Africa?
She who we are
She who defines us
She who holds us dear
See worse than my writing in the cold
Is the thought of what we put her through
Always taking from her
Never quite giving back-
Not even in part;
Do we ever go back
To pay our tributes?
To give credit where it’s due?
To just say Thank You, Africa.
She is poor because we rob her
She is third-world because we drain her
She is malnourished because we are bloated
She is weak and sick because we won’t heal her.
What Africa needs
Is you and I;
To own up to our misgivings
To own her as our own
To agree nothing will ever change
If we keep doing lame things
Over and over again
Beyond war and corruption
Beyond drought and floods
Beyond our selfish ambitions
Our misguided will to possess
We are the custodians of this land.
And beyond today,
Beyond our time on earth,
Africa will be.
So she needs for us to grow up
Straighten our legs
Iron out our muscle
Put our heads together,
Our differences aside
And give her a refurbishing
She so badly needs
An extreme make over so to speak.
It all start with you,
Yes you and i.
What Africa needs
Is you and I,