Don’t dream of a beautiful world
Every Caesar that dies is followed by a new Caesar
And after every revolutionary who dies
there is hopeless sadness
and a wasted tear *
Africa is a continent with no fathers nor gods.
An intimate beautiful primitive abandoned child of the universe that is its heart and soul, yet is deliberately left on the side of its history.
Africa is a sad story in its own African way, not a greek melodrama, not a loud hollywood fiction, just a subtle lump in the throat .. and a wasted tear.
I need an elite of poets and hungry people
to announce our anger or just sing a song
to the martyrs and the poor people
and to our son coming to add to the piles of refugees
to the hopeful in their prayers
The main characters in Africa’s story have always been the villains. From the villains who split the land apart to the villains who split the people apart.
A story of exploiters of all shapes, colors and types.
But Africa is a soulful spirit. A soulful tricky spirit, that despite all the sadness knows how to smile, how to dance and how to bring Mandela despite all the pain and the ugliness.
I need a new rhythm and a new instrument
that doesn’t break the harmony of this song even more
I need some beautiful lands for my drawing
and I need a sun that changes the taste of winter’s fruits
And in the midst of all the ugliness, all the conquerors turning “civilisers”, all the civilised turning liberators, all the liberators turning dictators, and all the dictators turning criminals. And all of us, giving up to get a taste of that fake dream north of the Mediterranean.
Amidst all of this ugliness, Africa, the tricky soulful spirit, managed to personify its true essence and innate beauty in the spirit, soul and existence of its only true child, Madiba.
Madiba is Africa’s only child and its only god.
And gods don’t die.
* Lyrics in bold are translated from a song by Sudanese band Igd Al Galad, written by Eritrean poet Mohamed Madani. RIP Mandela.