AFRICA, UNFINISHED AND RESTLESS

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AFRICA, UNFINISHED AND RESTLESS

"Political independence is only the beginning. The true liberation of Africa will come when every African nation achieves economic independence, and the continent is free to determine its own destiny."
                                    

                                       Tom Somah

Colonialism did not leave quietly. It was dragged out by people who had decided they would be free. Flags rose; anthems were learnt overnight. Africa danced, and she had earned the right to dance. But the borders she inherited had been stitched by strangers, force masquerading as fellowship. Beneath the drums of freedom, warnings were already stirring in the dust.

Our heroes who paid for independence left behind heirs who quarrelled over the throne. Old comrades lifted a strongman onto their shoulders. He came with wolves at his back and would deceive the very people who raised him. Self-rule slipped into the costume of democracy while the machinery of the old order kept turning. The foreign masters had gone; the whip remained, and new hands closed around it.

Honest citizens were shown the door. Loyalists took their seats at the desks of government. The police learned whose orders mattered. Those who had expected freedom found themselves standing outside the gates of their own independence. The oppressed, with nowhere left to carry their wounds, learned the hardest lesson of all: independence is not the same as freedom.

Liberators hardened into rulers. Greed found its way into policy, theft into law, and corruption into the daily business of government. A party card opened doors that a lifetime of honest work could not. Nepotism took the head of the table; tribalism sat beside it. When one tribe was lifted, another was made to feel the ground shift beneath its feet.

 

Men who ruled by the gun arrived, promising order, discipline, and renewal. They brought repression instead. Deals were struck in the dark: protect me, and I will protect you. Prisons filled with the innocent. Critics were branded terrorists. Voices disappeared, sometimes overnight, and were never heard again. Brutality was presented as order and sold to a frightened nation as necessary.

And the money left.

It always seemed to find a way out—in quiet suitcases, through secret accounts, across borders, and into banks whose doors opened more readily to stolen wealth than to the poor countries from which it came. Ministers travelled abroad to plead for loans against the very resources their governments had squandered.

Since independence, much of Africa has seemed to walk in circles while the rest of the world moves forward. But Africa was made for flourishing. Her soil can feed nations. Her rivers can light cities while she perishes in darkness. Her people, battered but unbroken, have never stopped working, creating, and dreaming.

Still, a continent rich in resources has remained poor in opportunity. The house of promise stands beneath a leaking roof.

Africa stands before history—gifted, wounded, and betrayed.

Who, then, bears the blame?

The empire that wounded her? The borders that trapped her? The rulers who inherited the whip and called it government? The citizens who were silenced into submission? The outside world that condemns corruption while profiting from the weakness it helps to preserve?

The question refuses to die. It knocks on palace gates, on foreign banks, and on every conscience that has learnt to live comfortably beside another people's suffering.

But a question, however just, does not feed a child. Blame is a house in which Africa has lived for too long.

The harder work begins elsewhere.

We must begin with the young.

Let us wash from their minds the oldest lie of the slave trade and colonial rule: that Africa can never stand unless a Western hand holds it up. We must teach them that greatness did not begin with Europe and that civilisation is not a Western invention.

We should tell them about the builders of the pyramids. Without computers, cranes, or modern machinery, they raised monuments that still command the world's imagination. We must tell them about Timbuktu, where scholars travelled across the Sahara to study, teach, and exchange ideas centuries before European powers arrived, claiming to bring civilisation.

We must tell them, too, that many of the countries now praised as models of wealth and development were enriched, directly or indirectly, by systems that drew labour and resources from Africa.

There is something else we must tell them.

Nations rise.

Within living memory, China was poorer than many of the countries to which it now lends. Singapore had little land, few natural resources, and no hinterland to rely upon. Switzerland did not become prosperous because its mountains were overflowing with gold. It built its wealth through institutions, discipline, knowledge, enterprise, and, above all, the determination to make something of what was available.

Progress is not a miracle reserved for other people.

Africa's children must hear that often enough for it to become instinct.

The builders of the pyramids asked nobody's permission to be great.

Neither should their children.

Africa, arise. Stand tall. You were never made to kneel.


Tom

I’m Tom. I explore poetry, current events, and inspiring stories at Echos in Words. Join me in discovering thoughtful and uplifting content!

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