The Comrade At My Side (2014 FB Note)

 

When I look back at my 20s, one of the things I cherish the most is what most would call the *foolishness-of-youth*. The crazy passion, the belief that anything is possible, the fearlessness to go for your dreams without apology, and the like-minded dreamers I shared the madness with. Today is the birthday of one of my friends, an incurable idealist, fellow lover of mother Africa and one of the few who still lives with the spirit of *If I can dream it, I can achieve it*. This poem is dedicated to all the fellow dreamers and friends who've walked this Africa journey with me. The road is long, and at times seems impossible, yet it's an honour to look around me and see the comrades at my side who always kept the dream alive. #4TheLoveOfAfrica

 

We were just children, idealistic dreamers driven by a burning desire.

We spent many nights burning the midnight oil. Reading, debating, engaging...

The spirits of Sankara, Nkrumah, Garvey, Nyerere echoed all around us,

As their words guided our way, fuelling this fire, this love, this dream.

.

We called ourselves Pioneers and proudly declared: "Until the lion learns to write,

All stories of the hunt will favour the hunter". In my life-time, the lion

will

write.

.

We started revolutions, travelled far and met like minded brothers (and sisters) along the way,

We launched think-tanks, started companies, formed newspapers, spoke out against injustice.

We engaged our elders, sought mentors and guides from all corners of the world, 

We encouraged each other in our own little villages, in our own little ways we became comrades.

.

We called ourselves Pioneers and proudly declared: "Until the lion learns to write,

All stories of the hunt will favour the hunter". In my life-time, the lion

will

write.

.

We would host each other in our homes, a brother or sister coming from thousands of miles away,

Would find shelter your home, eat where you eat, and feel welcome, feel at home.

What bound us was more than the colour of our skins, the collective suffering of Africa which we detested,

We were comrades on a mission. Working our way towards a dream that spoke to our very souls,

.

We called ourselves Pioneers and proudly declared: "If not us, then who? If not now, then when?

It is our date with destiny!"

 .

With the passing of time, a lot has changed. Most fell by the way-side, as some often say 'life happened',

Yet the dream remains. No longer a raging fire, but a flickering flame in the hearts of the few.

Age and time has taken the wind out of our sails, has made us more rational and conservative, and wise.

But oh the foolishness of youth, the childlike idealism of those days. The *Yes We Can* conviction.

 

We called ourselves African Pioneers....