Unpacking my Afrocentricity

I was born and raised in Uganda. A few years in the middle were spent in Canada. I came to consciousness in Uganda, first fell in love there, bones were nourished there… I consider myself Ugandan even though I do not live there right now. I’m not sure how else to exist. My identity is not confused or mixed, my people live in the land where my great grandparents were buried. They’d have moved around, but Berlin Conference circa 1884.

Subconsciously, Uganda comes first, then the wider continent, then the descendants of African people spread throughout the World, then the rest of the World. I’m not sure I can change that so easily. I’m Ugandan-centric, then Afrocentric. I look for and celebrate the achievements of African people. In a circle of “others” they are practically my cousins.

Somehow I am now representative of all Ugandans in an international arena. I have learned to carry my responsibility with pride and honor. I’m an Ambassador.

I’m going to excise the accusatory tone of Afrocentricity from it. I have to be. It is weird to ask me to be something else -centric.

Old Poetry

Because I’m feeling it today.

walking

For Your Love

I see you, Dark Chocolate
Swinging your hips to the throom throom of this foreign music
Your skirt so short, my imagination is unnecessary
Your titties jiggling in your dress like the many eyes trying to keep up with them.
Know that I love you, no matter what
That the tears of your pain and loneliness stain my pillow.
I know if I fell in love with you
You could shatter my soul with your passing interest
And the sweet succulent love I was encased in
Would pass to another.

Hey there Tangy Caramel
Swinging those dreadlocks to the beat of my heart
You have me arrested in those wide brown
Deep pools of cinnamon chocolate.
You cling so steadfast to the notion that your voice is drowned out
You yell so loud, to be heard, to be remembered
I love you sweet Caramel
I hear your words, golden drops of honey
Reverberating in that beautiful throat.
I cannot let my heart be swayed
Your passion would drain me completely
Overwhelm me till I am just a shell of the woman I used to be.

Tall glass of sweet dark Ebony
Strong long legs strutting to your own internal beat
Polished like well worn wood, reliable, sure
Your essence is so fragrant wafting behind you
Every eye stretches completely as you Tyra stomp by
Your beauty prostituted for the attention
Of the least of people.
I adore you, dark coffee, filling my senses
With your soft and tender embrace.
Don’t you dare touch my skin
I’ll be tingling forever with the memory of you
And ache to be touched again…

@ndungi2012