Arise Africa

Like a teenager emerging from the shades of childhood

Africa sprung like a paragon of beauty

She grew as  a child towards sainthood

Her every move chaste, summarized as purity

Black gold cascades like well oiled hair

Facial features sharply chiseled out through self development

Her supple shoulders moulded into submission to constituted authority and heirs

Her slender hands constantly improving all that is set before her

Her Scholars, sprouting, as promising as young firm breasts

Her waist as a swans neck, void of corruption and evil schemes

Undulating hips, as big as her dreams and aspirations

Her steady long legs, the rock upon which her education and knowledge is based

Like a young maiden introduced at her first ball, she stands in amazement at the scenario before her

All like minded young rakes flock around her while older men beat their chests in display of superiority, strength and ownership

The older men grab at her and begin to lay claim to her sweetness, filling her mind with sweet promises of paradise

She is blinded by cheap gifts of jewelry to lure her and gin to intoxicate her

Being naive and gullible, she swallows all, believing them

Realizing that she is smitten, they begin to rough handle her

She protests and struggles but she is weak

Her structure is not meant for destroying natures work but preserving it

The men gain the upper hand

They begin to plunder, they loot, they ravage, they possess and finally enslave her

Alas Africa, once a proud and stately maiden is raped in her youth

Suddenly she finds herself  tattered, battered, buffeted. descended from grace to grass

Her garments of royal purple is shredded and has become rags

exposing her once sought after innocence to all filthy men whose hands seek what they never placed there

Her lovers desert her, leaving her in the cold to fend for herself

In deep pain and distress, she makes a resolve to stand although her entire body groans in protest

Her once shiny black hair is almost completely torn out

Her face is masked by fear of the unknown

Her shoulders become stiff and unyielding

Her eyes burning with passion

All innocence is gone

Her hands are fractured, impeding growth

Her proud scholars are depressed and unsure

Her hips are torn from her waist, leaving a gaping wound that is soon covered with massive fleas of corruption and other vices

Nevertheless, she stands on wobbly feet

She seeks help from the young men that once courted her and danced for her attention, but they are unable to help

They lack the adequate facilities to treat her wounds and restore her

Her condition worsens

Her structure gradually decays, begins to stink

With no one to turn to, she returns to those who stand in accusation, mocking her

The same people who afflicted her

They offer help, at a price

At a price staked far higher than she can ever pay back

Reluctantly, she agrees, desirous to be healed, submitting to their greedy hands

They begin to manipulate.

A chip here, a tuck there.

They subject her to degrading conditions and rules.

"to recover, you must do this and that" "do not do this or that"

Oh Africa, have you forgotten your roots so quickly?

Don't you know that you have what it takes to be made whole?

Listen Africa, the only one who can help you is yourself.

Look inwards

For deep within you lies all the herbs and ointments you really require for your own healing.

Let go of the past

Look ahead to the future, where you will stand proud again with your head high

For old things have passed away, and all things have been made new again.