Africa is calling. 

She is saying “Come to me”.

“Come to me so I may whisper to you through the cries of the Fish Eagle, the buzzing of Cicadas and the breaking of waves on a Cape shore.

Come to me so my savage beauty can be breathed into your soul.

Look into the eyes of my beasts that footprint the earth.

Taste the fruit of the vine that grows in my soil.

Breathe the fragrance of the “rondawel” thatch as you drift to sleep.

Listen to the rustle of leaves as giraffes feed.

Salute the sun as it sets behind Kameeldoringboom.

Tremor as the mighty lion proclaims his kingdom under a vast African sky.

Climb the mountain that is the Tafelberg.

Speak words like Lekker, Yebo and Shosholoza.

Eat Biltong and drink Zamalek.

Fall in love.

Fall in love with my plains, my mountains, my forests, my people.

Oh, my people. My beautiful people.

Immerse yourself in my history.

Believe in my potential.

Embrace the spirt of my Ubuntu.”

Be still and hear the voice of Africa.

She is calling you.

“Woza kimi.”

“Yiza cum.”

“Kom kuier bietjie by my.”

“Come to me.”

Written by Tarryn Jordaan Troutman