Viewed from our veranda - the rain pouring down over the garden & newly planted lawnAfrica is a Continent of contrasts. Feast or famine, drought or flood. There is rarely any middle ground when it comes to Africa – it is all, or nothing. Africa gives abundantly. She also takes away.
I have watched Africa on her knees as her arid, cracked plains cried out for rain and ancient trees withered around her, casting little shade on the animals below, who lay dying and gasping for water.
I have also watched Africa swell and rise as water has flooded her plains and filled her rivers and lakes to the point of bursting, and animals have grown sleek and flat, and up and down her lush green valley’s and mountains people have rejoiced and thrown their hands in the air with glee.
As a farmer’s wife, it is considered “bad luck” for me to complain about “too much” rain. As an African, I also know that rain is the life blood of this Continent, so I really should be grateful when it comes. Even when there is a little too much of it for my liking. Even when the roads are so muddy and slippery we are completely cut off from the outside world. Even when the stray village dogs I feed have to take cover in the flowerbeds as they wait for their supper. Even when I have just planted hundred’s of flower seeds (carefully carried home across Africa) and fear they will all be washed away and wasted.
But I won’t complain, because knowing Africa, next year there will be a drought.
I also won’t complain, because Africa is my home and I want for no other.
Africa’s life blood is water. My life blood is Africa.
So.
I have watched Africa on her knees as her arid, cracked plains cried out for rain and ancient trees withered around her, casting little shade on the animals below, who lay dying and gasping for water.
I have also watched Africa swell and rise as water has flooded her plains and filled her rivers and lakes to the point of bursting, and animals have grown sleek and flat, and up and down her lush green valley’s and mountains people have rejoiced and thrown their hands in the air with glee.
As a farmer’s wife, it is considered “bad luck” for me to complain about “too much” rain. As an African, I also know that rain is the life blood of this Continent, so I really should be grateful when it comes. Even when there is a little too much of it for my liking. Even when the roads are so muddy and slippery we are completely cut off from the outside world. Even when the stray village dogs I feed have to take cover in the flowerbeds as they wait for their supper. Even when I have just planted hundred’s of flower seeds (carefully carried home across Africa) and fear they will all be washed away and wasted.
But I won’t complain, because knowing Africa, next year there will be a drought.
I also won’t complain, because Africa is my home and I want for no other.
Africa’s life blood is water. My life blood is Africa.
So.
Let it rain on .................
