They Clapped

they clapped when we landed thinking africa was just an extension of the black world they smiled as we taxied home to be met black to black face not understanding africans lack color prejudice they rushed to declare cigarettes, money, allegiance to the mother land not knowing despite having read fanon and davenport hearing all of j.h. clarke’s lectures, supporting nkrumah in ghana and nigeria in the war that there was once a tribe called afro-americans that populated the whole of africa they stopped running when they learned the packages on the women’s heads were heavy and that babies didn’t cry and disease is uncomfortable and that villages are fun only because you knew the feel of good leather on good pavement they cried when they saw mercedes benz were as common in lagos as volkswagens are in berlin they shook their heads when they understood there was no difference between the french and the english and the americans and the afro-americans or the tribe next door or the country across the border they were exasperated when they heard sly and the family stone in francophone africa and they finally smiled when little boys who spoke no western tongue said “james brown” with reverence they brought out their cameras and bought out africa’s drums when they finally realized that they are strangers all over and love is only and always about the lover not the beloved they marveled at the beauty of the people and the richness of the land knowing they could never possess either they clapped when they took off for home despite the dead dream they saw a free future