How's Africa?

I was asked this question, "How's Africa?" I wasn't sure how to respond, so I just rambled a bit...

Africa is a thousand books that have never been written, a thousand voices which have never been heard, a moving, dancing, singing, writhing, bustling continent with a history so rich we can only scratch its surface. I cannot say how africa "is," for I can only speak of the slice of it that I currently inhabit. Yet, even in this one small space, there is much to say. Even I, dressed in my light skin so many generations removed from the Equatorial existence of my ancestors, feel the weight of Africa on my soul. It is something I both love and am deeply troubled by, a place and an experience I will come to describe to others as and when I am able. Africa is our Mother. She suffers from injustice, disease, environmental degradation, colonialism, imperialism, capitalism, and greed... she is the indicator species by which modern civilization should guage the effects of its wanton surplus. As I read in a story once not too long ago, "No continent has endured such an unspeakably bizarre combination of foreign theivery and foreign goodwill." Being here as I am now, I cannot help but agree. And the questions continue...

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