My letter to Mama Africa

Dear mama, I’ve decided to write a letter to you because I have so many things I want to tell you. But firstly, let me introduce myself and let you know that I am sorry. I am sorry mama. Who am I you might wonder? I am one of your sons, but I know you have so many I do not expect you to recognize me. Let me tell you a little bit more about myself. I am one of your sons who loves you deeply, but at the same time with lots of questions to ask you. I can no longer be happy without some answers and pieces of advice from you on what I am supposed to do. But first, let me tell you that I am sorry.

I am sorry you are in pain and I can see you are struggling. I am aware that I have various sisters and brothers, who are also your children too. You may wonder why I bring up your struggle knowing that you always do your best for us. You provide us with all the necessities that we need and yet we, your children, cannot make it last. We cannot take what you have given us and make it last so that everyone will sleep on a full stomach. Some of us go to sleep hungry, while others are throwing up after eating too much. I’m sorry mama because I know you have given everything to make sure that you can give this to us. You have to be very disappointed with us, your children. I can understand that. I too am disappointed. Mostly I am sorry that we are hurting you with our actions. That we don’t stop to listen to you when you try your best to get our attention. When did we lose our ability to communicate with you? It is like we are speaking in different languages and we don’t understand each other anymore.

Mama, I have so many questions for you, but I don’t know how to ask them. If I do you might not want to hear what has become of your children. Mama, I’m starting to give up hope because I don’t recognize this family I was born into. My brothers and sisters fight amongst themselves for reasons they have already forgotten or for ideas that were brought to us by others. Mama some say that we, your children, are uneducated or miseducated. That we were brought up in another way than other children were. But I know that it was not your fault. I know you always did your best to give us what we needed. Although it seems that my oldest brothers and sisters got sick somewhere along the way. Mama, they are not of help to your other children anymore. Instead, they are fighting for things, which you wanted all of us to have. Leaving the small ones with nothing left. I know you intended for all of us to go to the school you were leaving to us. But you see mama I am sorry to tell you that that school is no longer there. And all of the sisters and brothers who were going to teach us were lost. They went away. Moved and died. Mama, I am so tired.

 

Mama, I’ve visited other children’s homes. They are all different from ours. Their families are usually not as big as ours and they do things differently. But mama, I’ve seen how they look at me when I’m visiting. It is like they feel sorry for me to have been born in your family. I have found many brothers and sisters of mine in those other children’s homes. They say they have moved there because they feel more comfortable there than here with you and all of us. But I can see that they are not fully accepted in those homes. Mama, it makes me so sad to see when our brother and sisters decided to move to other families in a bid of looking for a better and arguably an easier life. Not knowing that they will still need to struggle even after running away and after moving out. The struggle will be different, but it will still be a struggle. Mama, there have been so many visitors to our home; both invited and uninvited. But mama they are taking your children away and building up fairy-tale castles to make them run as far as possible from you. Mama, I am so sorry. I know that you never wished for this.

 

Mama, are you still reading? I am sorry to tell you all of this, but I am happy that you seem not to have given up on us yet. Mama, what is the solution to our struggle? When I get my own children I wish they wouldn’t have to struggle as I have done or the way you are doing. Mama, I wish that you would be healthy again. I hope that we, your children can start taking care of you so that you do not have to bleed from open wounds anymore. Mama, I do not want to hear your cough anymore. I wish you could sing for us as you used to and we all become calm as if we were going to sleep. But the type of sleep from which we can awake with a clear and common goal in sight. With one goal and focus to make you healthy, beautiful and happy again. Like you were when we were all thriving before you became sick.

Mama, let hope to hear something from you, at least this will give me a belief that things are going to be better again. Because this will encourage and instil more belief in me and I hope will reflect it on my brothers and sisters too.

All your love,

From one of your sons

 

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