Mother Africa Speaksb
I was herebefore the borders,before the flags stitched by foreign hands,before my children learnedto apologize for their own names.I am the drumbeatechoing through villages at sunset,the dust rising beneath dancing feet,the lullaby of grandmotherswho carried history in their voiceswhen books refused to remember us.I am gold beneath the soil,oil beneath the sea,stories beneath the scars.The world…












