Africa Sings

A moment
siphons dreams
from a barren woman
like puffs
of dusty air
from panting nostrils,
while low hums
betray her presence
in the thick,
and billow
like a fragrance
on the smoke of prayers
to the gods,
until her hunger
beats the skins
of the ashiko and djembe
and dances the earth,
pounding out the rhythm
that is Africa,

and Africa sings. 

Painting by me, entitled Africa

Read more poems by JMariah

Africa in me

I have been bitten by the "Africa" bug. Everywhere I go, I find stores that cater to the Africa-minded with art, music, movies. And I can't help but add another object to my collection. I've been holding back as much as I can, as I'm planning to be in Nigeria for December, but as my weak will would have it, I'm not doing so well.

This is my latest purchase.

Afrofest 2005

I was out at Afrofest yesterday and had a wonderful time. I found myself surrounded by African art, music and culture that thrilled me to no end.

When my friend and I first arrived, Allakomi was preforming on the main stage. Their lively enthusiasm was contagious and the beats they pounded out on their traditional African instruments was extremely electrifying.

There was an energized buzz in the air, as I stepped out of my usual shyness, and spoke to vendors and visitors as though they were all my brothers and sisters. And they were. And I watched as children and adults alike enjoyed the lively atmosphere of the day.

I ate fried plantain, dumplings (whose name I couldn't pronounce and now can't remember), and beef stew. I bought a traditional African outfit and danced to the lively beats of the music.

In my growing passion for Africa and its peoples and cultures, I had not known that so much of Africa was alive and living right here in my own city. But now that I know, nothing will be able to stop me from embracing it and making it all mine.