I am from the dusty sands of the Kalahari, where the wild horses run wild and free.
Where the sands hit their hooves and their manes glisten with the sun, they run together – wild and free.
I am from the African plain of lakes and valleys unfound, unnamed and untamed.
I am from the place where the vastly different oceans meet, where the under currents are fearful at the place where their hands meet.
I am from the place where the animals run wild, while somewhere on the horizon lies a sleepy sun.
I am from the place where strength meets fragility, where people’s faces, both young and old tell of broken, fragmented stories of hatred and brutality.
I sojourn here on African soil; I am an offshoot of the olive tree whose roots run deep, the branches stained red with the blood of Messiah.
I hear a sound growing louder, I hear the sound of footsteps, I hear singing – I hear them, I see them, I feel them.
I am from this tribe, my skin is muddied red with the soil of Africa, with the blood – bought, blood redeemed soil of the land.
I am from the tribe of African women who are arising, I seem them, I feel them, I know them. They walk across the burned lands of devastation where evil once plundered, they walk claiming victory. Walking unafraid, unashamed – they carry on their shoulders, on their backs and in their hands the sons and daughters of tomorrow. They wipe away every tear, the tears of yesterday’s years of fear.
I was birthed beneath the African sun and here I run, wild and free, untamed and unashamed. I am from this tribe of African women who are sensing destiny in the calling, who sense love in the face of brutality. This is where I am from; I am an olive branch sojourning beneath the African sun.