I am an African

 I am an African

 

I am an African

I am an African I don't do cold

I am an African.

Or am I?

Am I a half African or just a quarter?

What do you call me when I don't have melanin but the sun knows my name

They would call me white

Dutch, German European

But I am an African

Sawubona: I see you

Ubuntu: I am because you are

Yet I don't have the rhythms of  a child

A child swaddled always dancing on its mother's back

I am an African

Although I didn't have to go hungry

Or bleed for my treasure, my rights

I am an African

Although I didn't grow up with violence breathing down my throat

I am an African

My nose dances when rain hits the dust

I am an African

My heart bleeds, then becomes numb as I read yet another tragedy

I am an African

Cut me up and I will bleed

Bleed red like the fertile soil 

I am an African, even though I never knew slavery or apartheid or colonisation

I am an African

White born under the raging sun

I am an African 

She is my heritage

She is my mother

She is my home

I am a European African

Both cold and warm

I am an African 

She brought me up

She showed me how

She made me cry

She made me whole