I encounter Africa

I encounter an Africa

Ripe with resources

Not of gold and diamonds

Not of ore and bauxite

Not of oil and fertile lands

Not of cattle and livestock

Not of a beautiful landscape

Not of unimaginable wealth-of flora and fauna

Not of beautiful beaches

Not of an eerie landscape

I encounter an Africa

I speak of my Africa

Of strong men and wise men

Of Nkrumah and Nyerere

Of Sekou Toure and Lumumba

Of Haile Selasie and William V.S. Tubman

I encounter an Africa with towering figures

Like Nelson Mandela and Steven The Biko

Like Sedar Seghor and  Thomas Sankara

Like Desmond Tutu and the rest of the folks

I encounter an Africa

So rich is its resource

History called it civilization’s cradle

Welcoming Land

Why they come back

They leave with heavy feet

And come back in a hurry

What about this place that never lets them go?

The friendly people

Or their broad smiles?

Why do they come back?

I really don't know.

The beautiful landscape,

Or unspoiled topography,

I forgot the pristine beaches!

The countryside too!

Why do they come back?

Permit me to guess

The African women

With their firm upright breasts

The men also too!

And their solid physique

Providing the comforts

They don't miss home!

Why do they come back?

They keep coming back

If you're in love with this land you are welcomed here too

Rennaiscance

I touched a little bit of history
I might not have been there then
I might not have been shackled
I might not have experienced the whip
I might not have been weighed
But I felt their pains
I could feel the terror in their eyes
I COULD sense the despair and hopelessness they felt
I might not have been there then
But the desperation in the house of slaves was obvious
From the first house
The obvious separation
The disregard to family ties
To the weighing room
To the punishment room
To the room for torture
I could HEAR their groans and feel their agony
I could sense their anxiety and only wonder why
How can one hold back emotions if you touch the door of 'no return'
Their blood, tears and sweat will forever be remembered 
 Goree is a living history