A thought has been gaining strength in my head… I have been thinking about the unique problems of the African continent. Not about the wars, fuelled by various forces intent on their own useless, short-term gains; not so much about the droughts that our governments always seem too slow to plan for. I’ve been thinking about the African, the individual born on this continent, with ties to this continent they call “dark” and “troubled”.

I know the African solution is not simple. I know that the history of Africa is something long, bloody, complex, something that Africans call on to explain all the reasons why Africa is like a child that won’t learn to walk. I have cried for Africa, I have wondered (as most Africans do) when it will ever end, and I, too, have sought ways to leave. I won’t even be hypocritical, and claim that I don’t still think about moving to the West. I am one of those not-so-uncommon Africans, skilled, educated, ambitious. I can get by anywhere in the world, perhaps a remnant of that colonial legacy that has blessed even as it has cursed.

But, like I say, I’ve been thinking about Africa. I’ve been thinking about the very fact that I am one of those people who have something to give, something to use to help Africa rise up. I know how hard it will be; I know that it will take more strength than I have. But I believe in the power of one- the power of one individual to make a difference, one voice to speak for many, one idea to change the perspective of the world, one invention to make better the lives of millions. Because it all starts with one, doesn’t it? All it takes is one person who is willing to start the journey, to make a sacrifice for many; and while that one does not always see the fruit of their labour in their lifetime, their labour is not lost.

I wish with all my heart that things would change for Africans. We are not poor: that’s a sad, sad misimpression, propagated by images of famine and war and disease. We are so, so much more than that. We have huge reserves of mineral resources. We have rich soil, perfect for agriculture, and the climate for it as well. If we in Africa were to stop exporting the things we grow, and turned inwards, we could feed ourselves and be fully satisfied, no problem. After all, there would be no so-called “developed world” without Africa. We have so much potential to be better, but we have lost our spirit. We are like children who are looking for a parent, like travellers who have lost their way, and need a map and a leader. We have lost our belief in our power to survive, and have learnt to sit with our begging bowls, looking elsewhere for help.

I know that most of the Africans in the Diaspora have no intention of coming back. That’s fine; I don’t hold this against them. I do think, though, that if we decided, today, us young Africans who have so much power to change things- I think that if we would only decide, that we could change things. And change them a great deal. We have probably spent far too much time waiting for change; we have wasted a lot of time waiting for other people to make a move to form some kind of union, so we could join in. I think it’s time for a new way.

It’s not all of us who are concerned with issues of where the next meal is coming from. Not all of us are living under bridges, or frightened because our nation is at war. Not all of us have little access to decent medical care. Many of us have more than a basic education. We have specialised skills that we can share with those who can’t afford even the basic education. Maybe it’s time for us to start sharing what we have, not just with those in our families, but with others in our nation, across borders. We need to believe in the power of Africa- that indomitable African spirit- to regenerate, to help itself.

It starts with one. I will be a force for change. I have resources; small as they are, they are enough for me to use to help the person beside me, who may have nothing. I won’t wait for someone to come from the West to help the orphanage in my country; I can give a little of my resources, whether it’s time, money, or expertise. I can share some of my education. I can give some of the little I have, and not feel like I am losing something, because there is a vision greater than me. I can do just that little bit to bring Africa closer to healing itself.

Yes, there probably will always be room for Western donors. I will not knock that concept, because we have such a long way to go. But what about us? What about retrieving our dignity, and dusting ourselves off to do what we can for ourselves? I think Africa is like an abused child, having lost its self-concept and self-respect; but for how long shall we rely on handouts?