Even if things are so bad at home, I wonder who, or what is to blame; or even if 'blame' is the way to go.
Some of us blame the 'white man', some say we are accursed or bewitched, which of these is true?
Or is it because 'they' killed all our Warriors, and took the few remaining men and women as slaves?
But, the president of the U.S. is a Kenyan son.
I think then, the problem is we as Africans are not awake to the currents of history, in all the aspects of our lives.
Alas, we are poor in symbols that reflect on our Spirituality. The Cross came and knocked down our philosophical roots. Then came the Crescent, and the forces came more and more, for as is now evident we have globalization with us. These historical forces have always been.
Our Prophets warned us about 'Iron snakes' how did we respond? Look at how our railway systems are.
We were uprooted by the strong currents of globalization, and the voices of our fathers were lost. Our language and metaphor, our symbols, were crushed.
And now, even as we trudge along, we see even the Spiritual symbols that seemed to win, being crushed by Man, whose consciousness is growing in leaps and bounds.
Our panic and fear, our 'bewitchment', is we have no symbols to think and live with. Hence the symptoms we all see around us.
Home reminds us/me of our/my illness. Alas, I am so stuck now! I'm shaking, I just want to cover my nakedness. My shame. The reason why I hate and fear home. The secret of my 'Vampirism'. For I'm now in the world of Vampires. I'm looking at the Vampire me.
But here we go. One day a witch/mganga came to our home, she was a thin old witch. Among her tools was a single stringed instrument with which she encircled us, chanting.
The matter was very puzzling to me. Ah! Now I remember, I had been briefed by my mother, plus I had observed a few 'irregularities'. And I was suffering too. So I agreed to behave well. Everyone was home (or so my memory says). So we all knew.
I had wondered if all would attend, and naturally, what would happen.
It was dark, but none of us slept. We all sat on a line. Straight backs. And then the 'twang', 'twang', I think it was an 'alto' lol. And there she was, chanting. No one showed any restlessness. But I was wondering when it would end.
I thought little of it, but now I can see clearly what really happened. Our Spirituality was corrupt. There was a conflict of symbols. Christianity was a veil of conventionality, deep inside we were confused. I remember asking myself in my adolescence why the Gospel wasn't transforming me. Perhaps I was in the wrong 'school of thought'? I embarked on a journey.
And now here it is; we aren't in possession of authentic Spiritual symbols. We can't heal ourselves, our states are crumbling and we have no homes.