Read Africa’s Letter To Her Black Son Going To America

As Africa mourns George Floyd like the rest of the world, Nigerian author Amara Chidinma Ezediniru shares with the world a piece of creative writing, a letter from mother Africa to her black son who is going to America. The non-English words are from her native language, Igbo.

My dear Black Son,

It must be strange to address you this way, but I have to. You need to remember where you are coming from as you forge on.

Even though we are miles away from the country, the country, we were told, is the headquarters of freedom. They painted a picture of bliss, a land filled with milk and honey. I know it is different from where we are. It has to be. We did not spill blood to build our country, they did.

I know you have desires to spend some time there. Your desires shall come to pass. Your longing is only because you consider that country more advanced than where we currently are. I see your perspective; I will cheer you on.

When you go, remember to return. Please return because home is the best. You were neither sold out nor lost. You have a home, a people, a country.

After you’ve learned their advancement, please bring the knowledge back home. Home is where your knowledge and efforts will be more impactful. We are cheering you but they will only use you.

While you are there, remember that your heart defines you, not the colour of your skin. To them, you may be black but to me, to us, you have the purest of heart. The earth thrives because of hearts like yours. Those folks, some of the folks you’ll meet there have black hearts even when they consider their skin white.

Keep in mind you are a complete human, made in the image and likeness of our Chi Okike, the one who made all people equal. They may not be in accord with this idea even though they brought the message with their holy book. We know it, we know it because Chiukwu, the great God taught us well. This is the reason friendliness and forgiveness are near us.

Do not be like them. They lack melanin not only for their skin but in some other parts of their reasoning. Bear with them instead, teach them if they are willing to learn. Show them grace because you are full of grace. Give what you have, goodness and mercy.

I wish you will not bring their women to bear our offspring. There are many of your kind, choose from among them. I believe the blood of our ancestors still runs in their veins. They will long to come home. Yes, you can bring one of your kind and not them. They desecrated our land with their selfish first arrival. We may have forgiven but not forgotten.

Let me warn you, son, those folks, they revere you. They know you are witty, unstoppable and unbreakable. They indeed know. They cannot find answers to your strength just the way they cannot fathom your beauty. To fight you, they brandished you a criminal. They labelled you poor, weak and hungry. You know you are none of those. You are made of virtue, in you dwell no guile. You are God!

Let no other person describe you. I have done so. If you are unsatisfied with my description, do further, do it yourself because you have a mind, you can decrypt the handwriting on any wall. You are my son; Africa is your mother.

There will be wars as you sojourn, they will come with lies and blackmail. They will use their sophistication. Do not bother fighting them in their way. You will be gentle like a dove but wise like a serpent. You and your brothers may not match their numbers and their money, but you know that you surpass their jocularity. You are God!

I know you’ll return. You’ll return because you are going not like your fathers went. Those were forced, you are not. You will return because your eyes are not shielded from recognizing your path. Your hands are not tied, neither is your mouth gagged. You will return because nwa bialu ije ga ana–the child that embarks on a journey will return. This is the blessing from your mother.

Dear son, you are black for a reason. Celebrate it. Take pride in it. It is a great thing.

When your fathers were taken, we spent time cursing the foreigners. We wailed. We ran. We hid.

Our focus was on the ill their captors meted on us.

We know better.

As you go, I bless you. We should have blessed our people instead of cursing the strangers. The earth does not have any storage for negative energy. Now we know better.

I bless you my son. You will go and return. Ise

You will return a victor. Ise

You will return with great harvest. Ise

You will return with profit. Ise

You will return with your offspring. Ise

You will return with your head. Ise

You will return in glory. Ise

You will R E T U R N! Ise!

Your mother,

Africa

About the author: Amara Chidinma Ezediniru is a trained business administrator, human resource manager and a certified teacher. She is widely travelled, a compassionate Rotarian, an author of three books, and a mother. She is the managing consultant of Rald and Vid Consulting Ltd.