Probably the final part of this particular short fiction series on my blog. It does become something of a schlep for those seeing this for the first time, wanting to catch up and having to search through old posts (so just click in the sub menu of the "Short fiction" Tab in the menu above - Short fiction "Awakening" - I'll be posting all updates in there. Going home... and then home again. Short Fiction by Steven Benjamin (2012) The wheels squealed as he turned the car around. Linda stared at every one of his precise movements. He’d grabbed her arm and ushered her to the car. “Where are we going?” She turned as she heard her children rousing. When she calmed them down she turned back to Jeremy. “Well…” “Taking them to your parents. Tell them I need hospitalization and we need some time. Tell them it’s not an emergency, but we need to sort it out now. Like an insect bite or something; it could even be infected.” Linda glanced at the road. Her eyes then fell toward the foot well. She swallowed, tasting only dryness. “Where are we really going?” She whispered. They drove in silence for a while. Eventually he spoke, “Home. We’re going home.” The rest of the drive was in silence. Linda followed her gut, and simply did as she was told… even when it came to dropping off the kids. This man she knew as Jeremy, had sat in the car the whole time, only acknowledging her parents with a glance and a slight but distant wave. It was a strange silence as they made their way home. He seemed to be deep in thought, and not just thought but summations, plans, calculations; as if he was remembering things and cataloging them as he drove. He didn’t say a thing, even as he waited for her to unlock the front door, even while he rifled through his lock box which he’d retrieved from the bottom of his closet. In that box were plenty of papers, a couple of passports, a set of keys and a few trinkets Linda had never seen before. He unpacked them all systematically on their bed until eventually he stopped. He knelt down at the side of the bed, cupping his face in his hands. She heard him taking deep breaths. Linda walked over and sat on the foot of the bed, watching. Eventually his face emerged from behind his hands, his eyes scrutinizing the empty box one more time. For a moment Linda recognized him again and for the first time in what felt like an age, she felt compelled to voice her thoughts. “What is it?” “I’m looking.” His hand then reached toward the underside of the lid. He pulled on a small satin strap embedded in its inner rim. The small strap was like those strips used for book-markers, the type seen in many Bibles. The underside of the lid released from some unseen clip. The only thing in there was a medium sized envelope. He closed his eyes as he opened it. “I need you to look at this. I believe it will all make sense then. For both of us…” He pulled out a simple Polaroid photograph and offered it to her. Linda looked at him briefly before accepting the picture. Before she looked at it she gave him one more glance, as if for reassurance. This glance, that subtle look, would prove to be the last time she saw the man she knew as her husband, for the next three years. Jeremy watched her intently, anticipating something, even though he didn’t know what. She seemed not to recognize the image at first, but then she started pulling it slowly toward her face. Her eyes blinked profusely, and then she shut them tight, clenching the bridge of her nose. When Linda’s eyes opened eventually, they were staring at the wall ahead of her. Her head turned to him, and then her gaze followed. “I have always cherished this time between us Eli; these moments before you leave. You can go now. It is safe.” She nodded to him and smiled. He nodded several times, though it seemed involuntary. He leaned back and stood up in one continuous motion. He took the image from her and repacked the lock-box in the reverse order of how he’d unpacked it. Moments later, he closed the closet, turned and left the room. She heard the front door close. He backed out of the driveway slowly. Just as he put the car in gear, he looked up and paused, catching sight of the house he’d lived in for the past five years, now receding in familiarity. TBC "Happy reading - enjoy your weekend!"
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Firstly I’ll say this; when I first heard the term uttered by former South African president Thabo Mbeki, I’d simply taken it on face value. I’d simply used my understanding of the word Renaissance and applied it to an African context. This is not an idea that's grasped easily since the images and thoughts immediately infiltrating our minds when one mentions the word Africa, is poverty, war, animals, rundown cities, corruption, unspoilt terrain, lots of dark skinned people, the Sahara desert, the Pyramids, lots of brown skinned people, colourful flags, a Kenyan winning an Olympic runners medal, “indigenous culture” and perhaps for a privileged enlightened few, the images of everything that may or may not be loosely defined and envisioned as the idea/concept/entity known as “soul”. So then, the term Renaissance doesn’t really gel with all of that; and so it remains, for the time being, a fragile idea, shared by a dedicated few. Then again, ideas and ideals that bring about greatness and great change, is usually started by one. Much like Ghandi’s “be the change” saying – a model that is noticeably void in society today. “A dream is not a dream until it is a dream of a community” – Khoi San saying So anyway, here is the clinical definition and description of what the African Renaissance is and how the Renaissance Foundation (RF) hopes to go about achieving its goals: African Renaissance “It is the regeneration, reclamation, reawakening and a rebirth for the furtherance of the Pan-Africanism within the global context.” (Definition according to the RF.)
[It’s pretty ‘wordy’ I know, but intellectuals will always put it a certain way. Note: furtherance in this context alludes to what all Africans want the world to know about us, as appose to what the media from outside quarters has fed the world.]
What occurred through colonization was that many Africans fail to identify with their own heritage and culture, effectively disowning it because they were led to believe it was inferior to all others. Liberation movements fought physically for our freedom, but the after hundreds of years of pain, war, annexation, migration and subjugation et al, the mental scars run deep, and will only be fully absolved through the next generations; but it’s crucial that the current and future generations retain their heritage. - “Give us sanctuary in the blood of our people.” A message from a Khoi San chief… He knew war was coming (with British settlers) and that survival was unlikely. Fully prepared to die, he sent portions of the tribe to all parts of the country to seek shelter with any who’d accommodate them, with the goal being that, though the tribe would be all but wiped out, there would be a small part of them within the generations to come – an attempt to continue living through and in the children of all the peoples of our nation. Ultimately there are still portions of first nation people living in the Northern Cape, as well as those that fled further north into Namibia. So, there are many facets to the vision, concept and philosophy of African Renaissance, but at the heart of it lies the desire to preserve, and to then grow the consciousness of the African people (All Africans including the diaspora), to positively express ourselves and take action, to eventually correct the wrongs of our past and turn our weaknesses into strengths… … This is a vision that can only be executed if ALL Africans are united. (Another part in realizing this vision is the formation of the African Union to seek, at the very least, political independence in the road to establishing safety, peace and security across the continent. As many know, the complexities within Africa are vast, and thus the best suited to resolve our issues, are ourselves. Although the RF is run by many people, an undeniable driving force in its inception has been apartheid struggle icon and poet/novelist Dr. Wally Serote) Definitions are taken as defined by the Renaissance Foundation (2012). If you're skeptical about the term African (especially since there are so many people from different religions, races, creeds and countries within this continent, we take inspiration from Thabo Mbeki's speech "I am an African" - poetic it may be, but it perfectly encapsulates the beauty, complexity and diversity of what makes us Africans. For the speech, click here |
[Banner illustration by Joel Kanar]
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