Laane's blog
Africa
Found myself watching "Holby" at the BBC. Nothing wrong with that.
The story was situated in Ghana.
Tears roled over my cheeks. At first I didn't even realise it.
What is it that Africa pulls and pulls and pulls, as if I'm chained to it? Ghana, Niger, name it and it hits a string and resonates.
Show me Mali, or let the wind bring me a veil of Malinese music and I feel my heart open and I feel like it's my home.
Tell me, what is it??
I'm as white as milk. The heat would probably kill me, and otherwise the dust will.
I've never been there, and even though I long so strong to go there, I'll probably never will.
Here I have children to care for, and there will never be enough money to go.
I don't have a romatic picture of Africa. Never had. Friends of me are midwifes and they have lost the battle with life many times in Sudan, Malawi, Swaziland and Sambia.
Somewhere in a little hospital there's a vaccuumpump. A simple one. Non-electric. I've bought it after my first son was born. A friend took it with her and in a way it was a gift of gratitude for the survival of my son.
Somewhere in Swaziland a girl lives with the name of Susie. Her mother died during the delivery. Her father didn't accept her, and she was left for adoption. She was welcome here. All was ready. She would come 7 days later. I told my friend to go and talk to the father. "Tell him here's a mother whose child died, she says that his blood will be spilt over the borders of the spiritual area of his stem if he lets her go. But that she will be accepted as a daughter worthy of a full life if he sends her."
My heart both ached and was happy when he accepted her after all. I'm told she is a fine girl now.
I've tried to dig in my roots, to come up with a nice pair of very black ancestors. That would easily explain. But one can't read the color of the skin in old books.
If I would go to africa I would be a stranger. A whitey, and even if I would stay I still would be a stranger.
Like I am here.......
Feeling black in a white skin.
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