The Circumstances of Africans – And the Mindset We Must Cultivate for a Better Future

Picture a world map from centuries ago. Look closely at the vast continent of Africa—not the Africa you see in today's headlines, but the Africa of great kingdoms. The Mali Empire, whose wealth made European monarchs seem poor. The Kingdom of Kush, with its towering pyramids. The trading cities of the East African coast, where gold and ivory flowed like rivers to distant lands.

In this world, people lived as they had for generations. They farmed the fertile soil, mined the precious metals, crafted with skilled hands, and governed with ancient wisdom. Each community was a thread in the rich tapestry of African civilization.

But storms were gathering on distant horizons.

The Breaking

Then came the ships.

Not one or two, but fleets of them, carrying men with maps and muskets, treaties and chains. They didn't come as guests seeking friendship or trade partnerships. They came with a different hunger—a hunger that could only be satisfied by taking everything.

Imagine standing in a thriving African village as these strangers arrive. Picture the confusion in children's eyes as their parents are shackled. Feel the weight of watching kingdoms that had stood for centuries crumble under the weight of foreign ambition. See the very soil—soil that had fed generations of Africans—being carved up and claimed by people who had never walked barefoot on its earth.

For centuries, this continued. Africa's gold built European palaces. Africa's diamonds adorned foreign crowns. Africa's people labored in distant fields while Africa's children grew up hungry on the continent that should have been feeding the world.

The wealth of Africa became the foundation of Western prosperity. Every grand building, every industrial revolution, every step toward modernity in the colonizing nations was built on African bones and African dreams deferred.

The Turning Wheel

But history, like nature, has its seasons. What goes around, comes around.

Fast-forward to today. Walk through the streets of London, Paris, Rome, or New York. Listen carefully to the voices rising in anger: "They're flooding our borders!" "They're taking our jobs!" "They're changing our culture!"

The irony cuts deep, doesn't it?

These are the descendants of the very people who once forced open Africa's doors, who reshaped entire continents according to their will. Now they stand at their own borders, alarmed by the movement of people they cannot control.

But here's what they've forgotten: immigrants don't just appear from thin air like magic. They are the echoes of yesterday's actions reverberating through time. The cultures they once destabilized are now at their gates. The economies they once drained are now sending their children in search of the prosperity that was built with African hands.

This is karma in its purest form—not punishment, but consequence. The same doors that were forced open in Africa have now swung open in their world.

The Awakening That Must Come

But here's where the story takes its most important turn.

Imagine a young African woman named Amara, standing at the edge of the Mediterranean Sea. In her backpack, she carries the dreams of her family, the hopes of her village, and the desperate belief that somewhere across this water lies a better life.

As she stares at the horizon, a voice whispers to her—not from the wind, but from the wisdom of her ancestors: "Child, why are you running from the very land that the world still comes to harvest? Why are you fleeing from the continent they built their wealth upon?"

Amara represents millions of Africans who have been taught that survival means escape, that success means leaving home behind. But what if that story is wrong?

What if the real story is this: Africa is not cursed—it is blessed beyond measure.

Think about it. The same land that once made European colonizers' eyes widen with greed is still here. The same resources that built their nations are still beneath African soil. The same creative spirit that produced the world's oldest civilizations still flows in African veins.

If Dubai could transform sand dunes into a global paradise, why can't Africa transform its abundant resources into continental greatness? If the West could rise using stolen African wealth, why can't Africa rise using the wealth that rightfully belongs to it?

The Choice Before Us

Picture this scene: It's 2045. A young European student opens her history book and reads two possible endings to our current story.

Ending One: Africa continued to export its brightest minds while importing solutions for problems it could have solved itself. Its leaders continued to build Swiss bank accounts while their people built rafts to cross dangerous waters. The continent that could have fed the world continued to beg for food aid.

Ending Two: Africa woke up. Its people realized that the time for running had passed and the time for building had come. They held their leaders accountable, invested in their own soil, and built their own tables instead of begging for seats at foreign ones. They remembered that the world still needed Africa—for resources, for innovation, for the very survival of humanity—and they leveraged that need into power, dignity, and prosperity.

Which ending will she read?

The Call to Rise

The karma that is currently haunting the West should be the alarm clock that wakes Africa up. Every frustrated protest about immigration in Western capitals should be a reminder to Africans that they have power they haven't yet claimed.

Because here's the truth that nobody wants to say out loud: the world cannot survive without Africa. That's why they keep coming back—for vacations on African beaches, for rare earth minerals from African mines, for the next big investment opportunity in African cities.

If they need us that much, why are we still begging?

The time has come to stop running toward other people's dreams and start building our own. The time has come to look at African soil the same way those colonizers once did—as gold, as opportunity, as the foundation for greatness.

But this time, the greatness will belong to its rightful owners.

The Question History Will Ask

One day, when historians write about this moment in time—when the wheel of karma completed its turn and opportunity knocked on Africa's door—they will ask one simple question:

When the circle came around, did Africa wake up? Or did Africa sleep through its chance to rise?

The answer to that question is being written right now, in the choices made by every African leader, every African entrepreneur, every African young person deciding whether to build a life at home or board a boat heading north.

The story is not over. In fact, the most important chapter is just beginning.

And you, dear reader, are holding the pen.