Inspired by Martin Luther Kings’ Last Speech.

If by some chance today as I was walking through the street, I bumped into my creator took me for lunch and asked me this question, “Son which area and era would you rather be born?” I would take a tour through the garden of Eden where the beginning began, where the sea was parted from the land and the sky was given its blue. I would watch as the animals were given their names one by one, and the first medical surgery was performed by the creator himself and woman was created from the bone of man.
I would carry on to the time when the Messiah walked the earth as flesh and blood. I would observe the wonder as he discipled the disciples that took the word of faith to the world, where he constructed poetic parables to school us on the soundest and simplest of truths…
I would laugh myself to tears as Lucifer attempted to deceive the author of our faith into sin, and I would rejoice as the messiah himself put truth to the principle: “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”
But I would kindly refuse to be put into that era. And as he further walked me, my tears of joy would turn into tears of sadness, when I pass through the times of the evil slave trade. When men of dark skin were violated by men of lighter skin, auctioned off to the highest bidders, and shipped away to a destination unknown.
I would weep even further when I see some of these men and women being tossed over the ships when they became unruly, or fell sick from the ocean, or when there was a shortage of food to fill their large and empty African stomach.
Witnessing all of this I would nag the Lord to take me to another place for this era is too painful for my nerves to bear. I know for a fact that he would take me to the times of the Civil Rights Movement when these very slaves started realizing their value and protesting purposefully and peacefully.
I would probably be enticed and inspired by that age. For I would listen as Donny Hathaway sang, “One day, someday we will all be free”
When Bill Withers said, “Lean on me, when you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on.”
I would witness as a man changed his name from Cassius Clay to Mohammed Ali, and marvel as he flew like a butterfly and stung like a bee.”
I would watch from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, in Washington D.C. as a man shouted from the top of his reverend’s voice as he told the multitudes gathered that he had a dream, a dream that very few saw as possible.
And as the Lord almighty tried to take me to yet another scene, a separate time and place I would stop Him and humbly say, “Lord you have taken through many a place time and various a time, I cannot help but honour the wonder of the world and sometimes ambiguous beauty of your people…it is good.
But I have heard of a place and I want you to take me there, and as he enquired, “Where my son?” I would humbly answer, “Take me to that place between the Atlantic and the Indian Ocean, that place with the summer rains and the icy dry winters.
Take me to a time ten years after the millennium, 16 years after the birth of a democracy. Take me to the South of Botswana and Zimbabwe to the west of Maputo.
I want to see the Cape of Good Hope where there is a mountain shaped like a table, from there take me to the playground of Durban so I can play the night away.
Take me to Pretoria Mahlanyeng, the city of Supersport and Sundowns where the men drink, gulp and swallow like fish and the women are shaped like 8.
I have heard of Egoli the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, where there’s nothing that you cannot do. Jozi the streets that make you feel brand new and big lights will inspire you.
Take me to that land, lord where the people hosted a certain soccer tournament in their very own backyard, even though the naysayers, the pessimists and cynics said they lacked the capacity to host it and even bound to mess it all up. Yet having said all this the whole World, yes the whole of the earth, (including the fish of the sea, beasts of the land and even the mountains themselves) all witnessed that these those people are people of vision and endless possibilities.
That is where I want to go. That land where the people are pregnant with prospects, are contagious with their can-do character and ooze Ubuntu.
Take me to the land of Tambo and Mandela, of Sobukwe and Biko, of Tutu and Luthuli.
I want to go to the land of wonderful melodies where a lady once sang, “Friday night, yes I know, you must be waiting for me, you must be waiting for me.”
Take me there Lord, that is where I want to go.
And if by some chance God grants me this wonderful wish, I will be very grateful.
I will wake up every morning with a skip in my step and a swagger in my stride, even when the times are tough and the finances rough, I will not lose sight of the possibilities that lie ahead.
I will make as many friends as I can, from as many backgrounds as I can.
I will find myself a fine African woman, (hopefully from Pretoria lol) , I will marry, have kids and raise them in that land.
I will play like a little boy and sweat like his father, I will dream like a little girl but labour like her mother.
After all is said and done I will go to God with one more request. “Lord help the people of that land. Help them to be aware of their deficiencies, but focus on their strengths (what they do have) and use these to build whatever future they would like to have. If the future is building rivers in deserts, or walking on water, if it is healing the sick or raising the dead, even if it is to run on the surface of the wind…as long as their mind can perceive…through their sweat and hands they can receive it. For I have seen possibilities in that land, possibilities that no naked eye can see and no ordinary mind can comprehend. I have seen your very presence and hand over that land…Lord make sure that you bless Africa, especially the Africa in the South.!”