Letter from the Dark Continent
Dear White Man,
Hello? This is Africa, remember me? Oh, silly question, of course you do. After all, you’ve been sending me money all these years since we broke up. That’s what I want to talk about, the break up. I am so sorry about that. I know I kicked you out, called you a rapist and a lot of things were said. I want you to know it was a phase, a horrible unforgivable phase I was going through. It was the whole independence thing; I wanted to be my own person…biggest mistake ever. Turns out I really do need you.
You probably heard I got with the Black Man right? It’s a funny thing how things turn out. He was so understanding before. “Oh, he beat you? Stole from you? Used you? That horrible bastard!” That’s what he always said about you. “I’ll never do that to you baby.” He’s a better liar than you (no offense). I know you did all those things, but you gave back. You always made sure I was developing. This man on the other hand is real bastard. All he does is take, take and take some more. He doesn’t even pretend to care.
If this keeps up, no one will want me anymore. Have you seen what he did to my Rwanda? I always thought that was one of my better features. Don’t get me started on my Zimbabwe and he makes me wear that pirated crap around my Somalia. Urgh. What a bastard. He steals everything I own. I’m miserable.
I guess what im saying is, please come back! I know things are rough between us but hey…I don’t expect you to change too much. The whole putting me in chains and whipping me thing, that has to stop. A bit too freaky for me, i’m not Rihanna. But you can move back in. You can take stuff…as long as you keep bringing stuff in. I know you will, unlike some people I could mention, you understand developing your own home. Please? Can you forgive me? I need you back.
Your Lost Love,