Dearest Conrad

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I come from Darkness – the heart of it

Here I find the riches you couldn’t hoard

And it isn’t gold, but boy, is it golden

A place not of turmoil and strife but striving and life

All the things which aren’t documented by BBC and CNN

Tossing and turning on the hard, cold, floor of my cell

Running and jumping over the prison walls they said I’d never escape

Feeling and sensing a type of freedom they suppressed

But secretly

Hoping and dreaming that they could, too, celebrate it with us

Leaning and reaching – they photo-bomb our historical archives

Demanding to share in our glory

Stopping and arriving to quench their thirst in our waters

To quench their greed with our sweat and blood

I see a shadow, no wait, I don’t

I hear a shadow

I touch a shadow’s heart…it’s alive

We’re all shadows to you, aren’t we

This moment feels like the end of a successful transplant on the heart of darkness

Yours freely,

A learned brute

Great classic read by Joseph Conrad. Achebe's 'Things Fall Apart' was actually written as a reponse/ African perspective to this. Warning: five star rating of racism.

Great classic read by Joseph Conrad. Achebe’s ‘Things Fall Apart’ was actually written as a reponse/ African perspective to this. Warning: five star rating of racism.

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