They Clapped

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they clapped when we landed
thinking africa was just an extension
of the black world
they smiled as we taxied home to be met
black to black face not understanding africans lack 
color prejudice
they rushed to declare
cigarettes, money, allegiance to the mother land
not knowing despite having read fanon and davenport 
hearing all of j.h. clarke’s lectures, supporting
nkrumah in ghana and nigeria in the war that there was once 
a tribe called afro-americans that populated the whole 
of africa
they stopped running when they learned the packages 
on the women’s heads were heavy and that babies didn’t 
cry and disease is uncomfortable and that villages are fun 
only because you knew the feel of good leather on good 
pavement
they cried when they saw mercedes benz were as common 
in lagos as volkswagens are in berlin
they shook their heads when they understood there was no 
difference between the french and the english and the americans
and the afro-americans or the tribe next door or the country 
across the border
they were exasperated when they heard sly and the family stone
in francophone africa and they finally smiled when little boys
who spoke no western tongue said “james brown” with reverence
they brought out their cameras and bought out africa’s drums
when they finally realized that they are strangers all over
and love is only and always about the lover not the beloved 
they marveled at the beauty of the people and the richness 
of the land knowing they could never possess either

they clapped when they took off 
for home despite the dead 
dream they saw a free future

© Nikki Giovanni