Thotlines
The Rise of Generation A
By Mkawasi Mcharo
From the fog of forgotten
From the abyss of abuse
From the alleys of abandon
From patchworks of pain
From backrooms and brothel
From heartbreak and hunger
From despair and disease
From mines and minefields
From grind, grime and guns
A generation shall A-rise
Forethought
It pains me to start a reflection on Africa with such intensely negative imagery. I trust I shall not end it on a similarly dark note. I will strive to seek a sense of hope as I let these reflections flow from my conscience. I shall otherwise spend a terrible night!
Generation A
Generation A is a generation of children who face sexual abuse, stand last in line when they need medical care and food, dragged into wars as child soldiers, used as tools of vengeance by traumatized adults, pawned away as prostitutes and servants for someone else’s temporal survival, a generation abandoned as spoilt goods when they are orphaned and HIV infected.
They are used as Africa’s poster child on charity organizations’ websites. They are framed on TV screens to feed the greed of modern-day Samaritans who live off the riches of benefactors seeking to soothe their guilt by saving a child somewhere in a downtrodden continent. “Just one dollar a day can feed a child, send them to school, secure them a future…”, so they are told through a late night infomercial that features a benevolent gentleman holding up a ragged sickly child like a farmer showing off his tomatoes. The message all along is “Buy my product; it cures guilt instantly!”
Generation A is also the generation that shall A-rise.
It’s Africa’s burden
Not to demean the giving of honest folks, but let us be cognizant of vultures that come in any form when they spot a carcass. This is largely a world moved by benefits rather than compassion, and the image of the suffering child has become the new bait in the charity industry. Africa provides a good supply of this bait. The continent is awash with foreign-based children’s organizations that have set up camp on the continent for decades, yet the plight of children has grown worse with time.
Africa must understand that the destiny of its children lies in its hands. Let us, with gratitude, welcome help from well-wishers, but let us never forget that Africa’s children on the streets, in orphanages, in brothels, in empty kitchens, under domestic abuse, in the wilderness trained as killing machines, in refugee camps, in mining field slaving for an invisible millionaire, all these are our children, our burden. We brought them into this world, and they are our responsibility.
You may ask: What is the number of this Generation A that we should be concerned about them? Doesn’t Africa have millions of its own healthy school-going children to sing about? Does is not reflect badly for one to trumpet about a Generation A when we are trying to tell a dignified story of Africa? Has Africa’s image not suffered enough from the world constantly showing its ugly side and never its successes?
Sunny side up
Telling the good side of the story of Africa’s children would fill up volumes for sure. I could start with the children born in the warmth of extended families and the safety net of community, never lacking for food, clothing, shelter or a good education. They number in the millions, scattered across the continent, raised in villages and cities. They grow up to enjoy successful careers, family life, and the ability to travel and see the world.
I could speak of the children of Kenya who enjoy free education, of South Africa who enjoy the fruits of post-apartheid liberation, of West Africa who are born to some of the most highly educated people on the globe. I could speak of the girl child who continues to benefit greatly from the work of organizations like FAWE (Forum for African Women Educationalists), Oprah’s new Leadership Academy, the Girl Child Network, and other countless organizations started by daughters and sons of Africa.
I could speak of the smiling faces of children reflecting a genuine joy of life that visitors encounter when they first come to Africa. All these are unpretentious images of the Africa’s children, our continent’s pride and joy. Their lives are far removed from the Generation A that is the subject of my reflection on this International Peace Day.
The chains that bind
Generation A lives in slums right next to the rich family children, divided by a trickle of a river; Generation A lives as full-time domestic servants right in the homes of well-to-do children, sometimes subjected to sexual and verbal abuse; Generation A stares in silent awe at the well-nourished city cousins when they visit their grandparents in the villages and call a goat a dog in sophisticated ignorance.
Circumstance and destiny bind them together under the banner “children of Africa.” Still, when these two groups of children stand side by side, their unity is only physical. A deep chasm runs in their midst, raging with the debris of a nation’s corruption, crumbling social values, and political myopia. It is this debris that makes the difference between a child in the squalid slums and one in the comfort of a loving home. Nothing is more important to the survival of nations than the treatment of its young ones.
For as long as Generation A is in chains, all Africa’s children remain in chains, stuck together in the same space, their continent’s destiny etched in their collective will to arise together. Similarly, as long as Africa’s children are in chains, children the world over remain in chains; the earth’s destiny etched in their collective will to arise together. Anyone who has ever taught a Kindergarten class must have had the experience of infectious sorrow among children.
When little Matthew begins to cry because he does not feel well, like dominos, the rest of the children begin to lay sorrowful little heads on their itsy-bitsy desks. Some will even start whimpering. I believe we are born with a natural dose of compassion. It begins to disappear as we are taught that competitive self-interest is the essence of survival. When we begin to re-discover that what is in my best interest is also to my neighbour’s benefit, then compassion begins returns to us.
Compassion: a political choice
Compassion is not a mushy feeling exhibited by disconnected socialists for whom material wealth is meaningless. Compassion is mastering the art of effecting good policy immediately without the need for an external force called government. Compassion means being able to make the right decisions to change the status quo without the mobilizing force of group lobbying.
Compassion is one person’s power to change dysfunctional social structure without a permission slip from an institutionalized power. It is self-governing government that begins and ends with you. Compassion is not charity. Compassion instills values in a community that last for generations; charity offers relief to a select few temporarily. Compassion is ethical politics; charity is expedient economics.
For so long we have tried or pretended to save Africa’s Generation A through charity, but we have failed miserably over and over again because calculatedly, we must maintain these children’s destitution in order to keep the expedient wheels of charity running. We must now have the guts to switch to compassion. Be warned, compassion is not a choice for the weak-hearted; it is oftentimes the noose that hangs those who dare stand in the gap for the voiceless.
If we choose to intervene for the sexually abused children, we must also confront the arrogance that allows those in positions of influence to abuse the vulnerable with impunity. If we choose to speak for the street children, we must confront the corruption in high places that allows economic disparities to thrive, widening the gap between the rich and the poor, and forcing parents to push their children to the streets for survival. If we decide to stand up for the freedom of the child soldier, we must confront the power-drunk cultic warlords who will stop at nothing to achieve their ends, and the “elected” presidents who thrive on the opposition of such unscrupulous child-abusing guerrilla movements.
From vengeance to healing
Making the compassionate choices that will allow Generation A to arise means directly confronting the powers that be, and if we perish by the sword of the King, we perish standing up. We have been hurt as a continent through centuries of slaughter and subjugations. In turn we have hurt ourselves with an equally self-destructive hate manifested largely through the way we treat our children.
King Leopold had his agents chop off the hands of children and adults who did not meet their quota of slave labour in the rubber plantations. More than a century later, African guerrillas in Sierra Leone recruited thousands of children into their army whose signature crime was the chopping off of enemies’ limbs. Uganda’s Lord’s Resistance Army captures children in night raids for their sexual pleasure and use as child soldiers. The rebels in DR Congo, agents of exploitative multinationals, enslaves wounded children in mine fields when they are not being abused as child soldiers. We have inherited and perfected deranged mentalities from colonial masters. The African child lies crushed and forgotten at the bottom of the pyramid.
During its worst times, Africa has become the organism that feeds upon itself out of self-loathe, a grotesquerie that has best manifested itself in the way we have chosen to treat our young. We must start righting so many wrongs done to a generation that will soon occupy the decision-making positions for Africa. A tree cannot grow when its roots are constantly scorched with acid.
For Generation A to arise, every political and economic policy made in every African nation must have the potential to heal and not avenge. Justice and reconciliation must be at the centre of each nation’s reconstruction. The mind-blowing significance of saving Africa’s Generation A lies in the simple fact of numbers: children below the age of 15 constitute about 50% of Africa’s population. Their neglect is Africa’s decimation; their coming of age is Africa’s coming of age.
A ceremony
The good news for Africa is that we do not have to start the cleansing ceremony from the beginning. Great men and women of vision and compassion have already paved the way for us through Truth and Reconciliation tribunals; through building compassion-driven organizations that make a visible difference in the lives of children; and through fighting for laws and policies that make the cornerstones of justice for children. The journey is still long and arduous, but Generation A will surely arise to lead Africa through freedoms and achievements we have not yet conceived. This, I have no doubt.
In my mind’s eye, I stand facing the five hills where the spirits of my ancestors forever beat the drums for me. I stand now and receive their permission to observe a glimpse of the future. I bow down reverently, then lift up my eyes and look out to the plains where the continent stretches endlessly to meet the rising skies. Before my eyes, I see a generation arising from out of the fog of forgotten, without war, without bloodshed. Skilled, sagacious and secure. It is their coming of age. It is the dawn of peace for Africa.
Sere.
**Personal reflections on this International Peace Day: September 21, 2006**
©Mkawasi Mcharo
