I should have left a lot sooner, left when I had the chance all those years ago. I should have left before my ties were broken, before nothing remained for me to love except the memories. I no longer feel tied to this land, the soil, the bush or the beaches. I no longer feel Africa in my veins. I remain here only because I cannot leave and take my daughter to build a future elsewhere.
I spent my youth traveling around the globe, yet always returning when Africa called. The land of your birth ties you to it like an umbilical cord connects you to your mother, even after birth. Now it is severed. I have not had life threatening experiences in this country nor have I endured the terrible fear that so many have had to carry with them, yet I still drop to the ground when I hear a fire cracker or when a car backfires. I still obsessively check that the house is properly locked before bed and aimlessly wander the rooms at night, switching lights on and off to show whoever is watching that, I too, am watching... and waiting.
