Shadows

TELLING AFRICA

3 TELLING AFRICA When they talk of Africa, You think of a termite hole, Of my people as some strange species. Our ways in alien colours they paint, castigating, Then their ignorant laugh and celebrate our misery Conjured by vain pens and minds, but Some have a worried look; they know The truth. Their people are telling mostly tales, Tales about Africa, tales about Africans: A people who know how to share, A people not afraid of age and its wisdom, A people who know the value of respect, A humble people who love truly And reserve their best for their guests. This rich culture, damned by the district officer, Their riches stolen by the commandant, Poachers who took their women in the dark And made their men work for nothing. They have turned the story upside down Making us look strange, stupid, and funny, Yet they will not leave us alone, One lie after the other. Today, “For Africa,” they sing, even as the oil Is scooped out in ship-spoons With bloodied yet shimmering stones in their boots From the land of the poor indeed. The only truth is that of alien values Now amidst the forest and the savannahs: To kill an elephant and hide the tusks, Or a buffalo and not tell the palace. 4 And where is the oil from the belly of the python? The tiger’s skin after the gutting? ...