The sun rises, crowds begin to build.
Crying babies sitting gracefully on their mothers back, as they sell freshly baked produce

Bus drivers impatiently waiting for buses to fill
conductors calling endlessly for customers 
cars vigorously horning their way through traffic. 
The noise becomes deafening, 
restless passengers call for hawkers selling food. 
This is everyday life here, everyone is an entrepreneur. 

Rains roaring through the blood orange sunshine, piercing across desolate plains while gracing the garden of Eden 
Majestic mountains reach for the heavens, separated by vicious rivers. 
A piece of paradise, a treasure in open sight yet not seen. 

A land perfectly created and yet imperfectly kept. 
It has a great balance of busy and calm, while sharing the extremes of wealth and poverty 
There is no middle here.  Where is the security?

A home to the sun kissed tribes of a thousand tongues. A home not only shared with mankind but with every creature imaginable.
It’s a home to all, from the north, east, south and west. 
Even in the midst of what might seem chaotic, midst of uncertainties, of insecurities it is still home.

It is my Africa