africa is a reality not seen
a dream not understood
its wars are the scab of a wound
its famine the cracking of seeds
its dictatorships a child torturing
beetles in a field.
its soul’s older than atlantis
and like all things old,
it’s being reborn,
and doesn’t know it.
countless cycles of civilisation
and destruction are lost in its memory
but not in its myths.
africa is a living enigma
an old woman taken for a child
a wise man taken for a fool
a beggar who is also a great king.