Why I Never Wanted to Go to Africa

I’m an African-American, and a proud one, but I never had a desire to go to the motherland. I always ask myself, Why? I’ve been to South America, I’ve been to Europe, and I want to go to Scandinavia. I want to go everywhere, but I do not want to go to the motherland.

I asked myself that question recently, and then I answered it: “Why should I go away and see poverty and despair when I can see it right here in America?” In America, I see my people living in despair and poverty. Then I said to myself, “Why should I pay thousands of dollars to see what’s before my own eyes? In America, people walk in the streets, people are homeless, people die of AIDS, and people die of heart attacks and diabetes at an early age. I see morbid obesity, I see rape, and I see murders every day. Why should I go to Africa and see what’s going on there?”

How can we forget what happened in Somalia? How can we forget Rwanda, where the Hutus mass murdered millions of Tutsis? Now we see the same thing in the Congo, and it’s just going through the continent: black people killing black people, and all for money, so we are no different than the conservatives of America. Those who have are willing to murder and rape to keep what they have. So why should I want to go to Africa?

When my friends come back from Africa, they say, “Oh, the motherland! I went to South Africa. I went to Cape Town; how beautiful it is.” But then they say, “Look at Soweto. Oh, my God, what abject poverty.” I say, “Don’t be shocked, we have Soweto here in the ghettoes of America, and no one cares.”

We see money being poured out by the billions to free the Iraqis, and we see none to help impoverished Americans and none going to Africa. When I say "none,” I mean very little—not enough to make a difference in their lives. I’m saddened when I listen to the stories or watch them on TV, but now I say, “God, thank you for the life you’ve given me.” And I too need to share, so I have found a cause to help. But my cause is not to help those in Africa. I have now written my insurance policy to go to Howard University, my alma mater, when I die, because I want to help some poor African-American to make it in this country, and I know my alma mater will prepare that person. This is why I don’t want to see the motherland. We have enough stories here, and what happens in Africa happens to us here. Sometimes you want to see something bright, you want to see hope. You want life, you don’t want to see or read of death. That’s why I want to go where I can see light, because we’ve lived in darkness and I live in darkness. I’m hoping that one day I’ll see the light.