I wish I could look at a map and say there that’s where my people came from. Save money, board a plane, fly to my ancestral home, and see what made me.
But Africa is a big place and I’m not Kenyan, Nigerian or Ethiopian. I have no claims to their past and no right to their future.
All I know is I have some melanin, ***** hair, and the knowledge that my ancestors blood and bones set the foundation for a nation that hasn’t made its mind up about me.
So sometimes I wonder what if my ancestors had survived sugar fields instead of cotton. Faced whips on the islands, instead of the south. Would I then feel at home because I could look and know.
Or would that leave me emptier since here is still not there and a claim to there would make me less here. I guess until I figure this out I’ll take a made-up country to be my made-up heritage
I am Wakandian
So as black history comes to a close and i feel the blackest i have ever been. yet i am faced with more questions than answers