Africa

Africa is no distinct fashion style to be admired for its exotic qualities. It is a people.
Africa is in my skin, in the smooth dark, velvetiness of it.
It is in the palm kernel oil that makes me glow.
Africa is in me.

Africa is in the way the paddles hit the surface of the water.
It is in the colours tied about the long boat
It is in the vibrant movements of the paddlers.
Africa is vigorously graceful

Africa is in Atilogwu
It is in the slashing steps of the dancers and the reckless twists that leave one gaping
It is in the proud firm breasts that dare you, the haughty flick of the head
Africa is carefree

Africa is in the many colours of the akwete
It is in the tall and wide gele
It is in the smooth cornrows
Africa is regal

Africa is in the veins on the hard arms of our young men
It is in their quick response to danger and the way they protect their women
It is in the sound of the drums that cause my heart to beat in its rhythm
Africa is strong.

Africa is in the sassy tone.
It is in the sharp tongue.
It is in the spirit that went through chains with head high and shoulders squared.
Africa is all of us.