Philosophy
The Tree and African Consciousness
Nov 3, 2023
Chris Yumba
0:00/1:34
That our wisdom is preserved by and lives on through culture and our elders’ thousand tales, is a revelation we can no longer ignore. Our ancestors' solutions are carved in stone such as in the pyramids and in culture as in the sounds of music. Imperialism, colonialism and many other -isms have massively displaced, changed and even wiped out our continent and their culture.
A metaphysical journey within, to the foundation of communal living.
It’s a warm cool Saturday evening. Somewhere in a village far away from traffic, commerce and large gatherings of stressed people, I make myself something to eat, along with a cold beer after a busy day of work. In contrast to the past, work nowadays does not only involve the physical endeavors, but more so a mental one . Self-development is part of my daily dose of work: having thoughts about and around the world and working on my life's path to make the right decisions.
My girlfriend and I talk about the fears we have. She recently graduated from university in environmental engineering and is applying for internship positions in Africa. Positions provided by the government are mostly unpaid and those provided in the private sector offer low salaries making it viable to live on solely. These are existential fears. Fears of being incapable of providing for one’s family, fears of lingering in an immutable environment forever and fears of failing to have access to the means to evade such a situation. Perhaps these are just limited perspectives for the future of Africans.
Beside fear, limited perspectives and unstable economical situations in most african countries, we all possess the same common core: values.
We have all heard about it and experienced it ourselves. When I talk about We, I mean all my African fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers - the ubuntu. The We is the shared conscious experience that binds us together. It is the recognition of the other—the empathy and the knowledge of the experience that we share. We share these things, exchange, take the pain from one another, encourage and push each other to laugh until we drop.
I firmly believe that with African consciousness we can live out our unity in the struggle against whatever stops us living out that consciousness without major infringement. The duty to contribute to the greater good/community has been deeply rooted within our system.
This energy enables us to do great things. Whether be it a work of art, writing a song, touching hearts, making people laugh or cry, instigating political revolutions, driving change in society, or publishing scientific papers. They all help us to expand and enlighten consciousness. It is this great interconnectivity that is filled with transactions, experiences, knowledge, speculations, emotions. This is We and the African conscious.
Food is the most common thing we share in Africa. If you are in Ghana, Algeria, Ethiopia or in Congo, we celebrate that which is the basis of our lives. In a village far away from town and talked with my girlfriend, after a full plate of fufu with beef larded in a spicy, pepper-flavoured sauce, we lick our fingers as a sign that this meal was a blessed and wonderful meal. Together, as a family, we share a prayer to our ancestors for allowing us to experience this. With our bellies full, we squeeze out of our plastic chair, thank the mama recipe that created this wonderful dish and lie down under the tree with a bottle of soda on a soft mattress with a fan and take a nap.
Within various African cultures, the tree remains a metaphor representing a centering force within a family or a community. It is, in essence, a monument to the spirit of the African consciousness. It serves as a meeting place at any given point in a day; be it early in the morning as the sunrises, a place of an afternoon nap or banter amongst cousins, or in the evening just before sunset to meet and bond with our family, the extended family, friends, friends of friends, children, as well as babu and mama from the house next door.
We gather to hear the stories of those who came before, and the lessons we may pass to those who come after. Stories of our grandfathers and grandmothers are so dramatic, rich in life lessons. Our elders remain the oral bearers of all that came before, and as a result, they have earned the honor of being granted the highest form of respect. A respect granted because their stories aren’t written and we don't know how long they will remain. These stories are like so many stories that start under that tree in a small village. In the realm of our bordered imagination, we step into a world which existed before we were born. The hurdles and difficulties which seem almost impossible to overcome to us nowadays were overstepped and it concluded in a happy continuation. Happy because we can be grateful for still being in existence.
Every soul under the tree has heard these stories, the recurring tales of the elders, the tribes and the cultures from which these somnolent souls descend. As banal as they may sound, these lengthened anecdotes carry an encrypted rhythm which inspires, encourages or, at times, saddens us. Under the tree, every soul grows with these stories; akin to a freshly sown seed. It first becomes a bud. Still deep underground, dark and full of dangers such as insects, worms and potentially polluted grounds. Nevertheless, the bud has managed to become a small seedling. It grows upwards, downwards, horizontally to eventually morph into a tree. Its age and its history can be decoded in the cross-section of one of its trunk. It gives information about what happened, what the conditions were each year and the state of its health.
At night, under the linen sheets, perhaps following another outing, drunk and sweaty, our mind wanders deeply through these thoughts. Within our dreams, the planted seeds of our elders are revisited and recited. In this hallucination, we play out the plays of our elders and ancestors. WE suffer with them and ask ourselves what we can do to create a more pleasant future for ourselves and our children, and upon waking, find ourselves refreshed and rejuvenated ready to enact the lessons passed down to us. We aim to ensure we stay on the right path in order to make a house a home. To create healthy environments where growth is enabled, hope is perceived and humour is diffused from an individual to another.
We want an environment where we can laugh, cry, dance, paint and make music. So, we create colourful clothes, musical compositions and, most importantly, wonderful dishes in order to make do in a world where we feel trapped, oppressed and neglected; to live up to the lessons of our elders and ancestors. All this in hope to buy some more time to spend with those who may not have that much time left, and to dream about the stories of our ancestors.
In the end these moments and memories with family, in a world where we have been reduced to nothing but a number—be it a social security number or an employee number—will forever remain above all else. The number of uncertain remaining days in life, along with the time you have remaining with family will always be more important than the number shown on your bank account statement.
From time to time the temptation to give up the belief in a better future surges but we pull ourselves together again. A better future where life is measured not by the numbers but by the values of our kind fellow human beings. A living with the community, where we value each others contribution to society, where gifts and talents are being honoured and their work appreciated. A community where personal connection exist and a mental health issue is to be healed within the community. A community where WE can sit together under the tree. The tree which symbolises the center of the community, a place for social gatherings, late night stories and rituals to celebrate and mourn.
What WE need is a consciousness and awareness that the journey of us lies within. We need to know ourselves, know our life purpose and connect with the life force. A universal principle to define ourselves and working together in unity to strive and maintain our shared values. Let us come together as community under the tree in remembrance of our ancestors, their wisdom and with the awareness of the African consciousness.
On this journey, together, as one, we learn what lies ahead but learn from the mistakes which lay behind us.
The song talks about leaving his village living in the diaspora and then coming back to the hometown in Angola. A view what has changed that grandmother is no under the tree anymore, coffee is no longer wealth, husband can be wife, hunger is no longer war and that misery already pays VAT.
Wealth is no longer coffee
Riqueza já não é café
Husband can be wife
Marido pode ser mulher
Conterra is no longer a country
Conterra já não é conterra
Floor is no longer earth
Chão já não é terra
Hunger is no longer war
Fome já não é guerra
When I came back
Quando eu voltei
Kamba no longer warns you
Kamba já não te avisa
The car is now the biva
O carro agora é o biva
Misery already pays VAT
Miséria já paga IVA
That our wisdom is preserved by and lives on through culture and our elders’ thousand tales, is a revelation we can no longer ignore. Our ancestors' solutions are carved in stone such as in the pyramids and in culture as in the sounds of music. Imperialism, colonialism and many other -isms have massively displaced, changed and even wiped out our continent and their culture.
A metaphysical journey within, to the foundation of communal living.
It’s a warm cool Saturday evening. Somewhere in a village far away from traffic, commerce and large gatherings of stressed people, I make myself something to eat, along with a cold beer after a busy day of work. In contrast to the past, work nowadays does not only involve the physical endeavors, but more so a mental one . Self-development is part of my daily dose of work: having thoughts about and around the world and working on my life's path to make the right decisions.
My girlfriend and I talk about the fears we have. She recently graduated from university in environmental engineering and is applying for internship positions in Africa. Positions provided by the government are mostly unpaid and those provided in the private sector offer low salaries making it viable to live on solely. These are existential fears. Fears of being incapable of providing for one’s family, fears of lingering in an immutable environment forever and fears of failing to have access to the means to evade such a situation. Perhaps these are just limited perspectives for the future of Africans.
Beside fear, limited perspectives and unstable economical situations in most african countries, we all possess the same common core: values.
We have all heard about it and experienced it ourselves. When I talk about We, I mean all my African fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers - the ubuntu. The We is the shared conscious experience that binds us together. It is the recognition of the other—the empathy and the knowledge of the experience that we share. We share these things, exchange, take the pain from one another, encourage and push each other to laugh until we drop.
I firmly believe that with African consciousness we can live out our unity in the struggle against whatever stops us living out that consciousness without major infringement. The duty to contribute to the greater good/community has been deeply rooted within our system.
This energy enables us to do great things. Whether be it a work of art, writing a song, touching hearts, making people laugh or cry, instigating political revolutions, driving change in society, or publishing scientific papers. They all help us to expand and enlighten consciousness. It is this great interconnectivity that is filled with transactions, experiences, knowledge, speculations, emotions. This is We and the African conscious.
Food is the most common thing we share in Africa. If you are in Ghana, Algeria, Ethiopia or in Congo, we celebrate that which is the basis of our lives. In a village far away from town and talked with my girlfriend, after a full plate of fufu with beef larded in a spicy, pepper-flavoured sauce, we lick our fingers as a sign that this meal was a blessed and wonderful meal. Together, as a family, we share a prayer to our ancestors for allowing us to experience this. With our bellies full, we squeeze out of our plastic chair, thank the mama recipe that created this wonderful dish and lie down under the tree with a bottle of soda on a soft mattress with a fan and take a nap.
Within various African cultures, the tree remains a metaphor representing a centering force within a family or a community. It is, in essence, a monument to the spirit of the African consciousness. It serves as a meeting place at any given point in a day; be it early in the morning as the sunrises, a place of an afternoon nap or banter amongst cousins, or in the evening just before sunset to meet and bond with our family, the extended family, friends, friends of friends, children, as well as babu and mama from the house next door.
We gather to hear the stories of those who came before, and the lessons we may pass to those who come after. Stories of our grandfathers and grandmothers are so dramatic, rich in life lessons. Our elders remain the oral bearers of all that came before, and as a result, they have earned the honor of being granted the highest form of respect. A respect granted because their stories aren’t written and we don't know how long they will remain. These stories are like so many stories that start under that tree in a small village. In the realm of our bordered imagination, we step into a world which existed before we were born. The hurdles and difficulties which seem almost impossible to overcome to us nowadays were overstepped and it concluded in a happy continuation. Happy because we can be grateful for still being in existence.
Every soul under the tree has heard these stories, the recurring tales of the elders, the tribes and the cultures from which these somnolent souls descend. As banal as they may sound, these lengthened anecdotes carry an encrypted rhythm which inspires, encourages or, at times, saddens us. Under the tree, every soul grows with these stories; akin to a freshly sown seed. It first becomes a bud. Still deep underground, dark and full of dangers such as insects, worms and potentially polluted grounds. Nevertheless, the bud has managed to become a small seedling. It grows upwards, downwards, horizontally to eventually morph into a tree. Its age and its history can be decoded in the cross-section of one of its trunk. It gives information about what happened, what the conditions were each year and the state of its health.
At night, under the linen sheets, perhaps following another outing, drunk and sweaty, our mind wanders deeply through these thoughts. Within our dreams, the planted seeds of our elders are revisited and recited. In this hallucination, we play out the plays of our elders and ancestors. WE suffer with them and ask ourselves what we can do to create a more pleasant future for ourselves and our children, and upon waking, find ourselves refreshed and rejuvenated ready to enact the lessons passed down to us. We aim to ensure we stay on the right path in order to make a house a home. To create healthy environments where growth is enabled, hope is perceived and humour is diffused from an individual to another.
We want an environment where we can laugh, cry, dance, paint and make music. So, we create colourful clothes, musical compositions and, most importantly, wonderful dishes in order to make do in a world where we feel trapped, oppressed and neglected; to live up to the lessons of our elders and ancestors. All this in hope to buy some more time to spend with those who may not have that much time left, and to dream about the stories of our ancestors.
In the end these moments and memories with family, in a world where we have been reduced to nothing but a number—be it a social security number or an employee number—will forever remain above all else. The number of uncertain remaining days in life, along with the time you have remaining with family will always be more important than the number shown on your bank account statement.
From time to time the temptation to give up the belief in a better future surges but we pull ourselves together again. A better future where life is measured not by the numbers but by the values of our kind fellow human beings. A living with the community, where we value each others contribution to society, where gifts and talents are being honoured and their work appreciated. A community where personal connection exist and a mental health issue is to be healed within the community. A community where WE can sit together under the tree. The tree which symbolises the center of the community, a place for social gatherings, late night stories and rituals to celebrate and mourn.
What WE need is a consciousness and awareness that the journey of us lies within. We need to know ourselves, know our life purpose and connect with the life force. A universal principle to define ourselves and working together in unity to strive and maintain our shared values. Let us come together as community under the tree in remembrance of our ancestors, their wisdom and with the awareness of the African consciousness.
On this journey, together, as one, we learn what lies ahead but learn from the mistakes which lay behind us.
The song talks about leaving his village living in the diaspora and then coming back to the hometown in Angola. A view what has changed that grandmother is no under the tree anymore, coffee is no longer wealth, husband can be wife, hunger is no longer war and that misery already pays VAT.
Wealth is no longer coffee
Riqueza já não é café
Husband can be wife
Marido pode ser mulher
Conterra is no longer a country
Conterra já não é conterra
Floor is no longer earth
Chão já não é terra
Hunger is no longer war
Fome já não é guerra
When I came back
Quando eu voltei
Kamba no longer warns you
Kamba já não te avisa
The car is now the biva
O carro agora é o biva
Misery already pays VAT
Miséria já paga IVA
That our wisdom is preserved by and lives on through culture and our elders’ thousand tales, is a revelation we can no longer ignore. Our ancestors' solutions are carved in stone such as in the pyramids and in culture as in the sounds of music. Imperialism, colonialism and many other -isms have massively displaced, changed and even wiped out our continent and their culture.
A metaphysical journey within, to the foundation of communal living.
It’s a warm cool Saturday evening. Somewhere in a village far away from traffic, commerce and large gatherings of stressed people, I make myself something to eat, along with a cold beer after a busy day of work. In contrast to the past, work nowadays does not only involve the physical endeavors, but more so a mental one . Self-development is part of my daily dose of work: having thoughts about and around the world and working on my life's path to make the right decisions.
My girlfriend and I talk about the fears we have. She recently graduated from university in environmental engineering and is applying for internship positions in Africa. Positions provided by the government are mostly unpaid and those provided in the private sector offer low salaries making it viable to live on solely. These are existential fears. Fears of being incapable of providing for one’s family, fears of lingering in an immutable environment forever and fears of failing to have access to the means to evade such a situation. Perhaps these are just limited perspectives for the future of Africans.
Beside fear, limited perspectives and unstable economical situations in most african countries, we all possess the same common core: values.
We have all heard about it and experienced it ourselves. When I talk about We, I mean all my African fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers - the ubuntu. The We is the shared conscious experience that binds us together. It is the recognition of the other—the empathy and the knowledge of the experience that we share. We share these things, exchange, take the pain from one another, encourage and push each other to laugh until we drop.
I firmly believe that with African consciousness we can live out our unity in the struggle against whatever stops us living out that consciousness without major infringement. The duty to contribute to the greater good/community has been deeply rooted within our system.
This energy enables us to do great things. Whether be it a work of art, writing a song, touching hearts, making people laugh or cry, instigating political revolutions, driving change in society, or publishing scientific papers. They all help us to expand and enlighten consciousness. It is this great interconnectivity that is filled with transactions, experiences, knowledge, speculations, emotions. This is We and the African conscious.
Food is the most common thing we share in Africa. If you are in Ghana, Algeria, Ethiopia or in Congo, we celebrate that which is the basis of our lives. In a village far away from town and talked with my girlfriend, after a full plate of fufu with beef larded in a spicy, pepper-flavoured sauce, we lick our fingers as a sign that this meal was a blessed and wonderful meal. Together, as a family, we share a prayer to our ancestors for allowing us to experience this. With our bellies full, we squeeze out of our plastic chair, thank the mama recipe that created this wonderful dish and lie down under the tree with a bottle of soda on a soft mattress with a fan and take a nap.
Within various African cultures, the tree remains a metaphor representing a centering force within a family or a community. It is, in essence, a monument to the spirit of the African consciousness. It serves as a meeting place at any given point in a day; be it early in the morning as the sunrises, a place of an afternoon nap or banter amongst cousins, or in the evening just before sunset to meet and bond with our family, the extended family, friends, friends of friends, children, as well as babu and mama from the house next door.
We gather to hear the stories of those who came before, and the lessons we may pass to those who come after. Stories of our grandfathers and grandmothers are so dramatic, rich in life lessons. Our elders remain the oral bearers of all that came before, and as a result, they have earned the honor of being granted the highest form of respect. A respect granted because their stories aren’t written and we don't know how long they will remain. These stories are like so many stories that start under that tree in a small village. In the realm of our bordered imagination, we step into a world which existed before we were born. The hurdles and difficulties which seem almost impossible to overcome to us nowadays were overstepped and it concluded in a happy continuation. Happy because we can be grateful for still being in existence.
Every soul under the tree has heard these stories, the recurring tales of the elders, the tribes and the cultures from which these somnolent souls descend. As banal as they may sound, these lengthened anecdotes carry an encrypted rhythm which inspires, encourages or, at times, saddens us. Under the tree, every soul grows with these stories; akin to a freshly sown seed. It first becomes a bud. Still deep underground, dark and full of dangers such as insects, worms and potentially polluted grounds. Nevertheless, the bud has managed to become a small seedling. It grows upwards, downwards, horizontally to eventually morph into a tree. Its age and its history can be decoded in the cross-section of one of its trunk. It gives information about what happened, what the conditions were each year and the state of its health.
At night, under the linen sheets, perhaps following another outing, drunk and sweaty, our mind wanders deeply through these thoughts. Within our dreams, the planted seeds of our elders are revisited and recited. In this hallucination, we play out the plays of our elders and ancestors. WE suffer with them and ask ourselves what we can do to create a more pleasant future for ourselves and our children, and upon waking, find ourselves refreshed and rejuvenated ready to enact the lessons passed down to us. We aim to ensure we stay on the right path in order to make a house a home. To create healthy environments where growth is enabled, hope is perceived and humour is diffused from an individual to another.
We want an environment where we can laugh, cry, dance, paint and make music. So, we create colourful clothes, musical compositions and, most importantly, wonderful dishes in order to make do in a world where we feel trapped, oppressed and neglected; to live up to the lessons of our elders and ancestors. All this in hope to buy some more time to spend with those who may not have that much time left, and to dream about the stories of our ancestors.
In the end these moments and memories with family, in a world where we have been reduced to nothing but a number—be it a social security number or an employee number—will forever remain above all else. The number of uncertain remaining days in life, along with the time you have remaining with family will always be more important than the number shown on your bank account statement.
From time to time the temptation to give up the belief in a better future surges but we pull ourselves together again. A better future where life is measured not by the numbers but by the values of our kind fellow human beings. A living with the community, where we value each others contribution to society, where gifts and talents are being honoured and their work appreciated. A community where personal connection exist and a mental health issue is to be healed within the community. A community where WE can sit together under the tree. The tree which symbolises the center of the community, a place for social gatherings, late night stories and rituals to celebrate and mourn.
What WE need is a consciousness and awareness that the journey of us lies within. We need to know ourselves, know our life purpose and connect with the life force. A universal principle to define ourselves and working together in unity to strive and maintain our shared values. Let us come together as community under the tree in remembrance of our ancestors, their wisdom and with the awareness of the African consciousness.
On this journey, together, as one, we learn what lies ahead but learn from the mistakes which lay behind us.
The song talks about leaving his village living in the diaspora and then coming back to the hometown in Angola. A view what has changed that grandmother is no under the tree anymore, coffee is no longer wealth, husband can be wife, hunger is no longer war and that misery already pays VAT.
Wealth is no longer coffee
Riqueza já não é café
Husband can be wife
Marido pode ser mulher
Conterra is no longer a country
Conterra já não é conterra
Floor is no longer earth
Chão já não é terra
Hunger is no longer war
Fome já não é guerra
When I came back
Quando eu voltei
Kamba no longer warns you
Kamba já não te avisa
The car is now the biva
O carro agora é o biva
Misery already pays VAT
Miséria já paga IVA
© 2024, The Nuruba Media & Publishing Company Ltd. & Aberdeen Experience Labs
© 2024, The Nuruba Media & Publishing Company Ltd. & Aberdeen Experience Labs
© 2024, The Nuruba Media & Publishing Company Ltd. & Aberdeen Experience Labs
© 2024, The Nuruba Media & Publishing Company Ltd. & Aberdeen Experience Labs