MUSINGS OF MAMA AFRICA

It's a breathtaking dawn, promising a beautiful morning filled with bright rays of sunshine.
Deep down the cradle of civilization, Mama Africa stirs, and gently wakes up her children. She looks over them, as proud as any mother can be, and beams majestically.
"Yes", she shouts. My children have done well by me. They overcame all challenges and obstacles to flourish all over the world".
She closed her eyes, and could faintly hear them chanting with an alluring strength and pride.
She heard --->
I am the black one, conceived and cared for in the cradle of civilization.
I am the proud warrior who wrestles with the lions and dines with the hyenas.
I am your child, dragged from my enclave and shackled as a slave.
I am the son of the soil, ferried off in ships to toil for other nations.
I am the man who weathered the burning sun in the plantation amidst humiliation.
I am Ms Parks, who sat down so that Mandela could walk and Obama could run.
I am Dr King; for I dreamt so that Malcolm could fight for our rights.
I am that Negro child, who survived racism and fought for civil rights.
I am the pyramid of Giza, the top of Kilimanjaro and the dunes in Sahara desert.
I am that child in the camps of South Sudan.
I am the refugee, risking my life at the sea.
I am Ghaddafi, who dreamt of one Africa.
I am Timbuktu, I am Tigris, I am Lake Victoria.
I am the Iroko tree, tall and magnificent.
I am the Baobab, resilient and beautiful.
I am Ali. I am Bolt. I am Serena.
I am made of melanin, so pure and graceful.
I am Amina. I am Adichie. I am Oprah.
I am an embodiment of essence and excellence.
I am history, culture and traditions.
but most importantly,
I am BLACK and I am BEAUTIFUL