AFRICAN TALES ‘HARE’ RAISING

I AM an African. I was born in Africa. My father was born in Africa and my grandfather was born in Africa. I have no other nationality.

My sister, who now lives in America, becomes quite rude when black Americans refer to themselves as “African Americans.”

“I am an African,” she says. “I grew up in Africa, as did my parents and grandparents. I speak an African language (we children grew up speaking Xhosa as our first language and still chat to each other in Xhosa on the phone).

“You have never been to Africa, and you know no African language, so how can you claim to be ‘African American?’”

Their response, so far, has been a rather weak: “But you are white.”

I think I see life through African eyes.

They are the only eyes I have. When I look up at the moon I do not see a man in the moon. There isn’t a man on the moon. There’s a hare.

You can see him quite clearly. He faces toward the left and his ears point upward over his shoulders. His name is Kalulu and he is the hero of many African stories. I believe Kalulu was the prototype that gave life to the American folklore character, Br’er Rabbit.

Remember, the American slaves came from Africa and brought their folk stories with them.

Kalulu hopped among the cotton plantations of the Deep South under the new name of Br’er Rabbit. If you care about your African heritage, look up the story of Kalulu the Hare, written by Frank Worthington. It goes way back before Uncle Remus told his popular Br’er Rabbit stories.

We Africans are all too eager to pretend we are trendy Americans with our slick gangster-style clothes and our folk rock music.

We like the cool jeans and the baseball caps worn back to front, but we should never forget, we Africans did it first.

Next time you see cool young dudes parading in their trendy American-style outfits, smile in a quietly superior way and say to yourself with utmost confidence:

“All you are doing is try to copy the people who copied us Africans originally. You have come home.” Look up at the moon with pride and say: “We copy nobody. The world copied us.” Kalulu outwitted the jackal and the lion long before Brer Rabbit clashed with Br’er Fox and Br’er Bear.

That’s why I can say with great pride: I am an African. My soul is African. My white skin is just incidental decoration.

Last Laugh

The patient was coming round from the anaesthetic after a major operation. He looked up and the surgeon’s face swam into focus.

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” said the surgeon, “but I’m going to have to open you up again. I left one of my surgical gloves inside you.”

The patient waved a dismissive hand and murmured: “Don’t bother, Doc. I’ll buy you a new pair. Just add them to my bill.”