As my toes curl inwards and
I feel the soil of my African people,
As the sun beats on my back, I reminisce about
My stories untold through this Dark Continent.

Mes parents son nee au Congo alors je suis vraiment
Chaque jour j’ai voudrais mange le pondu avec le fufu.

Botswana’s tan is etched into my skin with visions of
Thatched roofs and thirsty donkeys.
Mzansi’s peoples got me speaking 12 different lingos while
Eating from the same pot.
Ubuntu got my stomach.

My culture is the intertwine and the interweb of three different Nations.
But day by day my culture becomes your culture and his culture Becomes hers.
Genevieve’s egusi becomes Thato’s dinner and before you know it, We are one.


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