It’s the Africa in me br that loves the forest in which I wake, br that sees and hears its fauna and flora and revels in their names. br br It’s the Africa in me br that you hear in my spirited conversation, br that shakes my shoulders as I sob my sorrows br or laugh my insides, inside-out. br br It’s the Africa in me br that keeps me reading poetry deep into the night br and causes me to stroke the sinuous muscles of my striped, domestic cat br and kiss the muzzle of my gently nickering horse. br br It’s the Africa in me br that has taught me how to love br and patches up the fragments of my soul after each disaster br and renews my zeal and increases my understanding br in preparation for the next onslaught. br br It’s the Africa in me br that has carried me br from my first baby breath br and will support me to my very last. br br I am truly a child born of Africa.