I was tagged by What an African Woman Thinks and asked why I blog about Africa. I was having a bad day so thought I would wait a few days to see if I could come up with some wonderfully interesting set of reasons but I haven’t – so this is it. In fact Rombo has already given most of my reasons
Africa is under my skin. Africa is the voices in my head. Africa is the itch on my back that I can’t quite reach.
Africa is my “I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me.” She’s all over me like wet on water.
She’s beautiful and she’s strong and she’s got so much to give, she inspires me and I love her truly madly deeply.
She’s battered and bruised and sometimes broken and I love her even more.
She’s always on my mind and in my heart.
It’s not so much, then, that I choose to blog about Africa. It’s that I can’t not.
Africa is like a contrary but charming friend – she makes me angry and frustrated, lets me down, goes on walkabouts and is influenced by some pretty horrible characters many from distant lands. But I cant help loving her deeply – she is alive, she is real and wise with so many wonderful meaningful stories of humanity and life. She is rich in stature and spirit. I love the way she moves, her facial expressions, the taste of her food and the smell and colours of the earth but most of all I write about her because I so much want her to be OK to be right to prosper and to be in control of herself and to be confident enough to love herself!