Мой Континент

If your soul shouts, do shout as well. If sorrow is gnawing you from within, don’t hide your tears. If you want to laugh so loud that you are afraid to lose your head – forget about shyness and do it; and your brain will find its way back into your skull later.

If you dream about perfect order in your life, I can only feel sorry for you because it seems that you were born in the wrong times. You belong to some distant future where all today’s challenges are already solved, all shit is burnt on special plants, and nobody is angry, and nobody can die from some silly disease. Because there are no humans left in this dreamy world of yours: the planet belongs to robots.

Cash me out, I want to be alive!

I want chaos and vast spaces, I want fighting and then shouting songs, I want to meet hundreds of people and understand what they carry in their hearts.

A man who speaks your language and honestly answers your questions about his life may be alien to you, yet some dude who doesn’t even know where America is located can make you feel that you are important to him, and that if someone starts fighting with you at the street, he will bring his motley gang to join you in a twinkling of an eye.

When I first came to Egypt, I didn’t trust them. But the sand poured out of the hourglass very quickly and I had to admit – shame on me – how wrong I was.

People speak their mind here. They are not afraid of feelings. They cannot just like you; they fall in love and don’t even call you a friend – you become a brother, and who cares that different blood is running in your veins. We are all Adam’s descendants. Or, if you are an atheist, I won’t blame you, I will just ask: do you know that we all come from Africa?

Africa. The Dark Continent. When a European hears these words, a ghost of invisible shiver runs down his spine. ‘What, you moved to Africa? Are you mad? It is a damned space, full of crime and danger! Why don’t you want to settle down in Europe where everybody speaks your language, the streets are clean, and girls don’t hide their faces, on the contrary – they show their legs!’

My beloved European friends, I have to tell you that you know nothing of my world. My Egyptian brothers, those of you who think that life in Europe is so quiet and civilized - you have no clue about those ‘dreamalnds.’ You better listen to a man who saw both sides of the Moon.

Europe opens a door to you cordially but still warily. She doesn’t know you and has no reasons to trust, yet she is polite and knows how to treat a guest.

Africa screams to you. You better sink into its hot arms, or you gotta be devoured, you gotta be smothered, and you never gonna learn what you’ve lost. Or she will estrange herself from you, being too proud to feel insulted, and throw you to mercy of a desert night.

Be wild. Accept this savage love and set yourself free, at last. Inhale the air of freedom but ye be warned that it is hot and full of sand.

Africa is the cradle of life. It is about everything – dirt and diamonds, passion and hatred, laughter and tears. It gives birth to beautiful, strong, desperate people. Some of them live here for all their life, for many generations, without accepting any strangers’ blood into their tribes… I meet them in the center of my city sometimes. Much taller than ordinary people, with proud bearing, dressed in bright clothes, with skin darker than ebony, they walk down the streets proudly, and when you look at their faces, you understand which features the deities might have.

Pride. Dignity. Strength. Look into dark eyes of a beauty you meet somewhere in New York, London or Hamburg, and then, into the eyes of a small boy playing on a wasteland at the edge of the jungle in some newly-formed Central African country, and you will see the same.

This is all about my people. Some of them already live in safe green cities with skyscrapers forming the skyline. Still, the blood of their ancestors, people who sacrificed their life for freedom of their race, for prosperity of future generations, is boiling in their veins. Don’t you ever mess with Africans.

And the others are still through fire and water every damned day of their life. And they never complain. And they will give you the shirt off their back just to make you feel good.

I know only a couple of persons in Europe who would do this without fail.

Guess how many folks with such a wide soul I’ve met here?

Black is the most exciting color because it contains the entire spectrum.

I have put my roots down this dusty land so deeply that I don’t entertain any idea of coming back to the North.

So what if my skin is pale, and my native language is English, and when I sing late at night on the roof, I am telling the stories of cowboys and Red Indians. Life grows everywhere, and when God was creating all these different lands He definitely had a plot in His mind.

I will never leave these places. I will travel wherever I want, count the strange stars and get cold on icy shores, chase ghosts in old castles and drink mead from the hands of warlike maidens. But sooner or later, my land will call me home.

My white flesh, my red heart, my black soul belong to this continent. And let anybody try to tell me that I should better run from here like hell. If you are my friend, I will laugh at your face and say that you are damn wrong.
 
I am proud to be African.


Рецензии
я как будто посидела в африканской пустыне у костра
языки пламени освещали бледное лицо, а странные звёзды
над далеким континентом ярко светили и пели о свободе
души африканцев...
очень талантливо написано и только сейчас я поняла, что
мой исток это Африка
браво, брависсимо!!!

Эллен Бали   25.02.2019 16:05     Заявить о нарушении
Дорогая Эллен, спасибо! Значит, я достиг своей цели. Наши души - свободны, наши звезды - самые яркие. Добро пожаловать к костру.
С теплом,

Дэмиэн Винс   01.10.2018 11:02   Заявить о нарушении
бог спустился на землю...

Эллен Бали   01.10.2018 12:57   Заявить о нарушении