Posts tagged ‘Africa’

It Takes A Village To Raise A Child…

There is an old African saying that….
It takes a village to raise a child.

How ironic this proverb is because no African person in their right mind wants to be associated with being a villager.

Simply because the connotations of a village African bares shame

The names Victoria Climbie, Stephen Lawrence and Damilola Taylor all have something unique in common.

These children are SAINTS…..

They stand for something very unique, their short lives revealed something dark and sinister in our society.

The Voice newspaper yesterday shared a story on fb about a black child whose life was short lived at the hands of his “evil” uncle.People had a field day using all their adjectives on him and the story.

I was outraged, had to say same something.

Since I became a mother I’ve stopped passing judgement on these stories the media like to perpetuate.

I have become very much aware of the demons that can run in a parent’s head. Especially a parent who is raising children alone, in a broken marriage and so forth…..

Every time I see or hear them I thank God for giving me strength and sanity.

Never in all my years on this earth has my SANITY be so precious to me than now as a parent.

A wise fool recently told me that, being an African and him being a Caribbean I don’t know how it feels to be a slave.

I was so hurt and as usual my wild imagination took me back to the villages of my motherland and I began to put myself in the place of a mother whose child was snatched away to be chained and shipped across the ocean……

It is not rocket science that 300 hundred years ago it was a miracle for a child to reach their 1st birthday and for an African mother to raise a son or daughter to the age of 16 years and be stolen!

And how her community would have treated her, it must be juju that is why only her child was perhaps stolen, whilst the ugly third wife still had all her babies around her.

The mother of this child reported killed by an uncle I know not much about, I read that she needed help and had to leave her child with her own brother.

I urged those fellow villagers on fb who were enjoying raining curses on the “evil” uncle to think about what they would have done if they heard something whilst enjoying an episode of Eastenders or Scandal.

I can only presume that the volume would have been turned up in the four corners of our Babylon homes, in which we feel elevated above our fellow brethren. 

So we too sit on the throne and pass judgement.I am raising a son alone.

When I need help, only total strangers will come to my aid. Not even church, but non Christians have been there for me far more than Christians. 

Where is the village?

I had a chat with a mother during football training and I really enjoyed the African wisdom she imparted into my soul this morning about motherhood.

Being a motherless child, sometime I am all too aware that I lack wisdom, knowledge and understanding on the purpose of being a mother…..

And So this nameless boy has lost his life because we Africans no longer live in villages. 

We now live in mansion and expensive apartments and whenever, we hear any commotion outside we do what the Romans do and peep through the window if we can be bothered or turn up the volume…..

This world where each man for themselves God for us all na wa O!

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My History

As an African woman I love and celebrate my history

I ain’t ashamed of my history

I am riding on the hips and backbone and strengths of women who barely had cloth to cover their wide hips or shoes to wear on their callous feet!

They fell and rose so I can face tomorrow and when the enemy comes in like a flood

I think of what got mama through so I can be here today!

And

I rise

I rise

Saxophone

Sleep taunted and kindled the eyelids

Unimaginable thoughts invades the abyss of the mind

Saxophone echoed  the indigenous sounds from Table mountains to Kilimanjaro

The King awaits with throbbing anticipation

She bowed  obediently before the King

Embracing him between his Kingdom, she crowned him with kisses of the Nile

And sucked in from gold to coast

She inhaled and exhaled

Slowly sucking with fierce hunger

He sliped a finger in the kingdom between her legs

And the wetness of her Nile parted and welcomed him home

Taking in the pleasures of  the kingdoms in which they both dwelt…

Hearts pounded like the pounding of fufu

The King met the Queen

And

Love brewed in the African Kingdom….