Seven Thousand Pt. 2 (Your Reactions)

I would really like to hear from you all. I would like to see your reactions. Please comment below or email me at JoshThomas2@gmail.com and I can add your comment myself. Thanks

The remark below is from my mother who witnessed this situation first hand when my family visited me here recently.

"I believe that every child that comes into the world should have enough food to eat, a safe place to sleep, an opportunity to grow and thrive, but most of all someone to protect and love them. I am saddened whenever I see the evidence of how short we are in meeting these basic responsibilities for any child ... My heart aches for all children who are left behind. " - Bari E. Thomas

PLEASE add your own comments below or email me at JoshThomas2@gmail.com

Seven Thousand

Roughly seven thousand young boys roam the streets of Dakar, Senegal and many other West African cities as talibés. Many families who can’t afford to educate their sons properly in Islam entrust their young boys to holy men known as maribouts. The children, beginning at age five or six, go to live with their new leaders where they are to learn the Qu’ran in exchange for labor. However, many of these maribout take advantage of the boys, forcing them to do hard labor, forcing them to beg for money daily, doling out harsh beatings to those who don’t bring in enough money and neglecting their Islamic studies.

Seven Thousand: A Sonnet for Talibés

Parents wish a better life for their sons

Knowledge of the Qu’ran is the mission

To the maribout go the little ones

To begging, beating, and malnutrition

Education is a lie, truth’s blood-stained

Suffering is the life of the betrayed

Human trafficking, the name of the chains

This is not the life for which parents prayed

Seven thousand boys in Dakar alone

Blasphemous perversion leaves these victims

Seven thousand victims so far from home

Their voices cry out, but will you listen?

Seven thousand souls have been lead astray

For freedom I pray, little talibés

How Can We Help Haiti?

Last week Port-au-Prince was devastated by a 7.0 earthquake that both literally and figuratively ripped apart they ground they stoop upon. Early estimates place the death toll in the hundreds of thousands while bodies are still being recovered. Haiti, the most fiscally impoverished nation in the Western Hemisphere, is now left with thousands of citizens without homes, a demolished infrastructure, and a need for outside assistance. However, therein lies another problem – what is the best way to aid Haiti in their time of crisis?

The president of Senegal, Abdoulaye Wade, has taken a step to assist those affected by the earthquake.

"The president is offering voluntary repatriation to any Haitian that wants to return to their origin ... Senegal is ready to offer them parcels of land - even an entire region. It all depends on how many Haitians come," said Wade's spokesman, Mr Bemba Ndiaye, to BBC News."If it's just a few individuals, then we will likely offer them housing or small pieces of land. If they come en masse we are ready to give them a region."

This offer is great – in theory. In reality – not so much. Senegal is a developing nation that struggles to provide for its population of nearly 14 million. That along with the general public's distaste for Wade has caused quite the stir here. Many believe that Wade cannot follow through on his promise while others fear that he will do so but at the expense of Senegal. The general consensus that I've received is that people here are willing to aid, willing to sacrifice even but bringing evacuees to Senegal will result in a lose-lose situation for all parties.

It's my belief that this was simply a political gesture. This was his way to play the role of a caring humanitarian on the world's stage while neglecting that same role domestically.

Perhaps other nations (nations with more land, resources, and finances) will take this as a charge and offer similar aid to the people of Haiti. The simple fact that he made this declaration before others could do so should be seen as an embarrassment to the conscience of the developed world.

What do you think? What's the best way to help Haiti?

Distant Lover

I have found a new love in the last few weeks. To be honest, I was both apprehensive and enthusiastic to make her acquaintance but that anxiety departed upon our initial encounter. Her beauty was breathtaking and I was immediately smitten.

Our connection was swift and undeniable. An eerie familiarity with this stranger intrigued me. She seemed to know more about me than I knew of myself and promised to remove the blindfolds which, unbeknownst to me, had rendered my vision askew.

However, she maintained her vulnerability by showing me her imperfections. Her storied and troubled past often ran parallel with my own narrative, and shared a common genesis. Her struggles were my struggles, her pains were mine also, as well her triumphs and delights. I rejoiced in our commonality and celebrated our variances.

Yet and still, I have not forgotten my first love. My distant lover who lies more than four thousand miles East. I cannot forget the manner in which she brought me from a boy to a man, provided for me and protected me. I cannot forget the things she taught me, whether it be the flaws of my miseducation, the frustration of that realization, or the jubilation in my search for truth.

To my distant lover: You are remembered and I shall return.

Disclaimer: I thought it would be evident but emails and other messages speak to the contrary. This is NOT about a person. I chose to personify Africa and America in order to make a vivid metaphor. Hope this clears that up. Lol!

Does She Know - Trey Songz

P.S. - Happy Birthday to all my fellow Virgos!

Wade In The Water

We begin our small trek from our domicile on the border of Ouakam. My new housemate Ahmadu leads the way through the area he has grown up in. The home of his childhood lies just across the street and the road is filled with his longtime friends and acquaintances.

Gary and I follow closely behind as we make our way through the dirt roads. People surround us on all sides chatting away in Wolof. I recognize a word there, a phrase here, but it’s mostly gibberish to me. Somehow, I still understand what they are saying. Maybe it is the tone in which they speak, the gestures they use, or some inexplicable human connection–whatever it is, it makes me feel like less of an outsider and more like I belong.

Our journey will be dim as we can only count on the sparse moonlight that escapes the cloudy night sky. Oddly enough, the dark brings me no fear. If I were somewhere in the States perhaps it would. Neighborhoods of northwest D.C. may instill a slight fear or even neighborhoods of my hometown of Lansing, Michigan become eerie in the darkness of night but not here. Ahmadu strides along with confidence so I follow suit.

Looking up I notice a structure that reminds me of the new condos on gentrifying U. Street in the district. It is funny how a world a part some things can be so familiar. Our path goes through a field where there is a big market on the weekend, Ahmadu tells us. The village of Ouakam is just across the field on the left and straight ahead is the distant glow of the lighthouse on the shore.

Small talk between English and French (I’m learning) accompanies our walk through the field as we approach the road. The occasional headlights of taxis and buses bring extra light to the hike. Looking ahead there is a dwarfing monument on the hill above. Masake (the daughter of Madame Kane and fellow HU grad) told us before about how the people of Senegal don’t like the monument because it’s expensive, depicts a woman with European features, shows the family of three dressed scantly clad almost as if they were savages, and the designer was foreigner. Ahmadu further went on to tell us that the statue cost the people of Senegal $13 billion! I would be upset too!

Now we have reached the Carnish, (forgive me, I may have spelled that incorrectly) which is the road that runs by the sea. As we travel along the shoulder cars whip by. Exhaust fumes from many of them remind me that the United States doesn’t have a monopoly on pollution. A cool breeze wisps by cutting through the exhaust, almost as if to tell me that nature will prevail.

At last we have arrived! Standing in the sand I gaze across the vast sea with a million thoughts whizzing through my mind. One realization takes precedence. Here I stand peering from the very same angle at the very same water that my ancestors gazed upon centuries ago. However as I look out I do so as a free man who has come back to this land of his own volition and the liberty to return or stay according to my prerogative. My ancestors, on they other hand, stared out into what must have appeared to be a watery abyss with no possible idea of what tremendous tribulation lie before them.

So much has happened in only five days here in Dakar, Senegal. I eagerly await the experiences of tomorrow!

Hello ... Goodbye

I say "hello" because this is my first post, the first installment of my Senegalese Tomes. For those of you who may not know, I will be living and teaching in Dakar, Senegal at SABS for the next ten months. I have the incredible opportunity to experience the motherland not as a visitor but as a resident. In a sense, I am going home.

I say "goodbye" because I am leaving behind what has been my home for almost 23 years of my life. I leave behind the culture that I know, the language I speak, my way of life ... but I am not leaving behind what's most important–the people. You are the reason for this blog. This is my way of bringing each and everyone of you on this journey with me so that you may experience it as I do.

I'm glad you've taken this first step with me and I hope to see your footprints along side me as I continue this journey. Please subscribe or follow and pass on the word!