THE PROUD WHORE AND THE QUEEN WHO IS A WARRIOR PRINCESS

ARTIST: Karl Bang

Most people coveted me, for as long as I can remember.  My body is a perfect map of caramel sand dunes, soft curves, cerulean water, emerald greens and harsh russet and isabelline rocks.  My beauty reflects my personality, a study in incongruous characteristics. Cheerful smiles, passionate, frightening storms, balmy days and isolated famine.  Some love every facet of me, others are less sincere and love only what they like. Yet, everyone return to me.

Some love me passionately but others use me blatantly, without shame.  I have been raped and I have been cherished. I have seen wars, watching silently from the sidelines, I have lived through wars and have a multitude of scars. But I am still beautiful, breathtakingly so, attracting woman and men, indiscriminately.

Some call me a whore.  Yet others bow before me and call me Queen. I do not distinguish between the men and woman who flock to me.  Those who hunger for me can have me.  But if you were with me you will never again be free of me. The exquisite bliss and passion of that one encounter will always linger in your memory. You will carry with you the disease I spread.  Nothing in this world is complimentary, after all.

So you see, all the titles bestowed upon me are truly accurate.

Some always come back to me, because I am irresistible, yet many flee from me, never to return.  Some say I am soaked in blood, that my history is a bloody trail following me wherever I go. Those who do not come back to me are still not rid of me. Memories remain. I am forever, a distant, persistent shadowy figure in the dark recesses of their minds.

I am the longing in their eyes, the sadness in their tears and the fury in their anger.  To those who stay, I am a constant companion.  Hard on them some days, but those days are few.  To those who stay I am the sunshine on their faces, the cool drops of rain after the drought.  I am the dirt from which comes forth food for the masses; I am the succulent grass that feeds the animals.

Some, who stay, hate me, but I am good to them, regardless.  I am fertile, in my belly there is life and they know the fruits of it.

Some come to me to steal from me and assault me.  I am stronger than I look – like the warrior princess and queen I am, I never forget.  I am a patient mistress (or whore, if you prefer) but beneath my breathtaking beauty and volatile personality, I am a warrior princess.

The world has watched me forever, stood silently by when I was raped and hurt.  But my time will come, for my name is Africa. There is none like me on this earth, and there will never be any like me, for in me there is love, hate, abundance, scarcity and an unseen power.

My name is Africa.

Once you have been with me – you will never be free of me and you can never forget me.

For I am Africa.

I am a warrior princess of breathtaking beauty and unequalled savagery.  I am harsh and kind and loving.  The wind from my mountains will caress you and the waters from my skies will give you life.  Yet, both may kill you.  Once you have tasted me you will be strong.  You will be a child of Africa, whether you are black or white.  I do not distinguish. 

For I am Africa. 

The queen of diverse people, beliefs and cultures and all belong to me.  In my hands I cradle the history of mankind and the spicy and pungent aroma of the cosmopolitan people who are my subjects.

I am Africa. A queen, warrior princess and (maybe also) a whore.

With special thanks to my proofreaders, L. Smith and H.Borchard.