Bitter fruits
By Brandon Astor Jones
“I am black and, no matter what I do, my core is African ... [I have] feelings within me of powerlessness, self-hatred and scorn, the bitter fruits of being the victim of discrimination.” -- Neva Mwiti
A Sydney Morning Herald's “Relations” column entitled “Painting colour on life's canvas” moved me deeply as I read Neva Mwiti's experiences with violence and racism. When she wrote about the little boy who had painted a series of stick-people with certain body parts missing I could feel not only the boy's terror and pain but her hurt and shame that Africans could be so brutal towards one another.
Terri, the little boy who had painted those stick-people, depicted the ongoing violence in Rwanda quite well. Mwiti was working with the United Nations at one time, and she was able to help Terri heal. Physical/emotional violence is everywhere. Children suffer from such violence with alarming frequency.
I would like to introduce you to a very special child. The emotional violence that she is presently experiencing could quite possibly traumatise her for the rest of her life (and whether we choose to admit it or not, we are all affected by her emotional traumas.)
She is a lovely child -- magnificent in every way. Her ebony skin glistens with the abundance, brilliance and radiance of each silent shaft of sunlight touches it. Just to gaze upon this child leaves you with a feeling of having experienced a special privilege -- you know somehow that the gods of beauty and colour have collaborated in the exquisite production of the splendid human being before you.
Queen Nzinga the Unconquerable, from sixteenth century Africa, comes to mind when this child walks by. There is an ineffable quality and grace about her. Her majestic head is adorned with a crown of delicately braided hair fashioned into an endless series of plaits, which descend in quiet swayings like a weeping willow's syncopation in a passing breeze. The whole frames the perfect symmetry of her face.
This description is how truly discerning eyes (free of racist sties and bigotries) see Maame Akobeng. This wonderful little girl, alas, is the only black child in a classroom full of white children, many of whom are the mean and evil little racists and bigots that many of their parents may well be proud of. She is being subjected to behaviour so mean spirited that she has begun to view her blackness, and Africa, with loathing.
While Maame's mother is from Africa, and has spent most of her life in Ghana, Maame has never been in the land of her mother's birth and youth. Later this year, they plan to visit Africa.
Even without racism entering the picture, children can be incredibly cruel with one another. So when racism is injected into their interactions as well, a child's ability to develop emotionally often stops. Such a child can even die emotionally, albeit slowly. It can take years of therapy to breathe emotional life back into such a victim.
I speak from experience: images more than 45 years old force me to remember painfully what it is like to be the only black child in school. I have a special interest in, and great sympathy for, Maame's situation. I hope some of you will take an interest in her too.
Maame needs the sincere entry of real people -- caring people young and old of every colour -- into her life. If you have children in Maame's age range (five-seven years) please urge them to write letters to and exchange photographs with her. If you have no children, then please befriend her yourself.
Maame needs us all. We need to let her know that while the world has its share of racists and bigots, it also has a lot of good and caring people -- of every colour, age background and stripe -- like you. People who will not say and do demeaning things to her because she is black.
I hope that reading about her has touched your heart. May your cards and letters be so filled with love that she will be too busy answering to be negatively influenced by her racist and bigoted classmates. Please let her know that her classroom is not the whole world.
Write: Miss Maame Akobeng,
c/o Ms. Akobeng,
9 Matt Busby Close
Hospital Road
Swinton
Manchester M27 UEZ
England.
[The writer is a prisoner on death row in the United States. He welcomes letters commenting on his columns. He can be written to at: Brandon Astor Jones, EF-122216, G3-77, Georgia Diagnostic & Classification Prison, PO Box 3877, Jackson, GA 30233, USA.]
