Africa has her mysteries and even a wise man cannot understand them. But a wise respects them.
In my lifetime, I have heard many women call and be called Mama Africa. I thought it just another phrase even if the texture of the name felt like so much more, felt like something beyond royalty.
In time, I understood the pain, strength and sheer bravery that outlined the name with gold, diamonds and pearls befitting only those of pure royalty. They cannot be seen but are felt as one's lips move to form the words Mama Africa.
Indeed, they breath. These words are alive.
Hidden between layers and layers of old junk in my late grandmother's rusty looking 2 bedroom apartment, I found it. Though it was covered in dust, I could almost swear I saw it beam with golden rays like a grail of some sort. It enchanted my mind. I was met with the soul that gave life to the words Mama Africa: Miriam Zenzile Makeba.