I Am African Poem by Obodokasi Ade'etem Agbor

I am African
Not because I am hungry,
But the color of my skin
Says so.
An empty stomach is the way of the black and white.

I am African
Not because my tongue has not tasted french wines,
But the protruding veins about my body
Says so.
Wine or not is my mind to make.

I am African
Because my neck has been bejewelled
By ropes and locks
My sore wrists entwinned in cuffs,
My ankles wrapped in jingles of chains,
Stacked in waiting ships
And sailed across oceans to till plantations.

If your skin is burnt black
Or fried by the sun to the tone of akara,
If the veins about your body
Makes you like the shape of an iroko
Whose roots have escaped the soil,
If your wrist
Have been made to wear
Cuffs that do not tell time
And your neck hung on ornaments
That are too heavy to bear:
You too are African.