Dear God
Sometimes it feels that all the people I know are robots. Ever since my Zulu nanny was chased away for reasons I never understood, I have had this feeling. Maybe its because my mother gave me to the Zulu woman, and her never-ending chuckle-grin, that I was given feelings? I can even remember God talking to me on the day they got rid of her. 'Some day you will understand this pain you are feeling', he told me. I can see now, how my mother was jealous that the zulu nanny and me were enjoying ourselves, laughing as I rode on her back as she polished the floor. And my two elder half-brothers just wailed and cried with my mother in the other room. My mother's mother was German, and her mother too. Each generation has been softened of the white man's fear and ignorance. Each generation seems better than the last. Our people came to Africa to get away from hell, travelling for years in leaky boats, losing half the people on the way. Now Africans are doing the same thing, heading back to Europe. I feel like getting in a rowing boat and rowing in front of them, and saying 'NO NO, for the good of your descendants, please, go back to Africa. White people have no emotions. So would you, if you had speant 15 000 years surviving an ice age.

 

 

 

 

 

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