My piece of Africa

 

 

 

 

 

Write people say and don't stop writing. I am going to try and take that to heart. I am writing three things at once here. A section on vegetation communities for a report. A 30 page Biodiversity Plan for a class assignment and this. Yes a writer I believe I will become, thou arduous and long the journey will be for me. I feel so insufficient. Words, words I need more words. Dig them out, scratch them out, break them out, burn them out, however it needs to be done, out they must.

 

This is titled the African dream. Inspired by the University of Kwa- Zulu Natal which seems to have become one of the most cosmopolitan learning institutions in Africa. It is fascinating to see the vast array of African scholars with a smattering of Americans and Europeans to add a little spice to the intellectual stew. I wonder often how much foreigners understand of the African dream.

 

Africa is not only a continent that gets into your blood but you will most certainly bleed for her if you choose to become one of her children; if you become addicted to this wild, unruly, uncivilised, beautiful, poignant, powerful destination. Oh we have civilization or what passes for that nowadays. Large big ugly smokey cities that can bear comparison with any on the planet. Africa though is not dominated by these masses of seething humanity, these pits seething with the most voracious predator the world has ever seen. A consumer of resources beyond anything  we have yet imagined. No Africa is about that which is not human. It is about the wide open savannas, the dense tropical forests, the arid deserts, the miles and miles of bush as yet untouched by man. Africa is a place where man is humbled. Where he instantly understands that his anthropocentric view of the world is not valid. This is a place with its own set of laws, where the power of mother earth and her creatures still rules. It is the last continent not totally dominated by man. The last place where mother nature is still Queen. Where the balance still exists.  

 

Sometimes it is hard to recognise or analyze but it is this primeval power that fills our souls. It is this closeness to mother earth that binds us to this the dark continent. Some who come from other places are never touched by the power of Africa. I often wonder if these people are touched by anything. For others it is a love affair that never ends and most of these can never leave Africa for long. For those of us that were born here who's great great grandfathers and mothers travelled here from the north, for these the rhythm of Africa is our lifeblood. It is the very essence around which we are created. Africa is not only our home it is our place. It defines us, shapes us, creates us. We cannot live without its smell, it sights, sounds and tastes. Africa is our love. We are living the dream.