Looking out: The whole world

The whole world

By Brandon Astor Jones

"I am [B]lack 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

The Sydney Morning Herald's "Relations" column entitled "Painting colour on life's canvas" moved me deeply as I read Neva Mwiti's various 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 Mwiti's hurt and shame (in that Africans could be so brutal towards one another.)

Terri, the little boy who painted those stick-people, depicted the ongoing violence in Rwanda quite well. Mwiti was working with the United Nations at one time, and I am glad that 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, the intelligent among us know that, in both direct and indirect ways, we are affected by her emotional traumas).

She is a lovely child — magnificent in every way. The ebony hue of her skin glistens with the abundance, brilliance and radiance of each silent shaft of sunlight that beams down to touch it. Just to gaze upon this child leaves you with a feeling of having experienced a special privilege — in that 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 16th 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 natural crown of delicately braided hair that has been expertly fashioned into a series of plaits — all of which descend into quiet swaying, much like the limbs of a weeping willow's, to-and-fro- in a waltzing cadence orchestrated by the gentle embrace of a passing breeze. Each braid is an integral part of the whole, which frames the perfect symmetry of her face. She is indeed, lovely.

This description is how truly discerning eyes (eyes that are free of racist sties and bigotries) see Maame Akobeng.

This wonderful little girl, alas, is the only Black child in a class full of Caucasian 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, I am told, they plan to visit Africa.

Without racism ever entering the picture, most of us know that children can be incredibly cruel with one another. When racism is injected into their interactions as well, a child's — especially a victim'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 that are more then 45 years old force me to remember, painfully, what it is like to be the only Black child in school. So 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.

It should also be noted that before I began this essay I was going to write a short fictional story about the evil in racism and end it with a good moral-punch, but poor Maame has been subjected to enough fiction already. What she needs is 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, six or seven), 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. To those of you who will write to her, please accept my thanks in advance for your cards and letters 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 to: Miss Maame Akobeng, c/- Ms. Akobeng, 9 Matt Busby Close, Hospital Road, Swinton, Manchester M27 UEZ England.

1. Queen Nzinga ruled the democratic regions of Matamba and Ndongo for 40 years. In 1662, the Portuguese governors of Luanda (which was then part of the Congo) sued for peace in fear of the warrior queen's wrath.

[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.]

From GLW issue 334