White African

It is a black man, who is offering me his seat in my local shawarma joint. In a world without reference point I am drawn back into my African home. He makes me cry, while I am flushing everything I ever believed in down the toilet.

I am in the midst of Europe - again. Here we don't have a clue about the world. We have lost every sense of relationship. Our own ideas are everything to us.

When a black woman look into my eyes, then I remember, what I didn't know just a few years ago. It is in her eyes. I can never forget her. She thought that I could fulfill her wishes. but I didn't know her deepest dreams. They were hidden behind her breasts which I didn't ever dare to touch. We were different in ways none of us ever would like to understand. Our eyes are the only thing we will have in common. Though we already know that we have betrayed each other by the lack of closeness. I am looking at you, because it makes me feel closer to myself. The colour of your skin gives me comfort and reminds me of lost friends under the sun. Relationships in vain. You look back at me to see what can come come out of it. You cannot afford to let an oppurtunity slide away. A man like me represents a valuable experience even if I end up dissappointing you.

I never cared about what other people thought OR I never took it into account, maybe because what I did was the only thing, I could do. I was never part of modernity, but trapped into tradition. We live in the world, where the majority live, where we don't have a choice. We do, what we do, because this is our only option. I never belonged in Europe. I was dropped here by accident and my destiny was to always go away to seek my other heritage. I belonged outside in remote places - but still I walked alone.

Especially in Africa women want to have somebody to talk to. In the beginning she might reject talking to you, because she is not used to talk to the man that she has sex with, but years down the road she will turn to you - only to talk with you.

I fell in love with a whole continent. Even before I had seen most of it. It was a dream I had in my mind since I was born.

I have been listening to Jimmy Katumba. It makes me remember Monday evenings "on the green". A big man coming on stage with his very big voice outdoing everybody else. Somebody out of the ordinary. May his soul rest in peace. Luganda is a beautiful language - that give me eternal memories.