192. AFRICA DAY 2021

Our kids have grown up with a father who, every time they'd set a foot wrong, would start reprimanding them by saying:

'You know, I walked across Africa when I was 20 and ...'

Or:

'If you'd walked across Africa like me, you'd know that ...'

And again:

'If one day, like your daddy, you want to walk across Africa,  remember to ... '

I always thought that the gypsy blood of his ancestors would one day take the better of him and that he might set off into the sunset, backpack and faded jeans, like the epic movie hero he was to my kids and to me. He did not, of course, but he peppered their education with tales of his youthful adventures. This mantra echoed through their childhoods and whenever they let the tap run, drop their ice-cream, fight, break a toy ... It was always: Africa to the rescue! Africa the powerful, Africa the faraway magical land whose breathtaking landscapes appeared in my children's vivid imagination. Suddenly they'd stop crying, stop fighting, would eat up their greens and turn quiet to listen to daddy and his wonderful stories. We collected the magnets that came with their favourite chocolate snacks and had not one but two maps of Africa on our fridge - we still do, their colours have faded and no-one fiddles with them anymore but they're still there. 

As they grew up and turned into teenagers, Daddy's spell wore off: whenever the phrase lurked the four of them would shake their heads and wave their arms and legs in a crazy dance and chant in unison: when I walked across Africa and end up bursting into boisterous laughter. The magic power of the great trek through the far away continent had lost its appeal. They could google walk across Africa now and see that Africa was actually on Planet Earth, that there were roads there, and planes and buses and WIFI. What was daddy going on about! Daddy was going on about some weird old world he used to live in a long long time ago. 

Today they are teenagers still. These teenage years seem never-ending and are in sharp contrast with the fleeting years of childhood. We are now exhausted parents of hyper-active youngsters who dart in and out of the house, go up and down the stairs, run across the garden leaping over the flower beds and come and go through the revolving doors of our house as if it was some kind of tube station cum hotel. 

They are so busy with their own lives, have no time to listen to our stories anymore, even stories about Africa. And so they've missed all the signs: purchasing and driving an old army Defender back from England, Christmas gifs of mechanical handbooks and second-hand maps, Dad sitting at the dinner table busy with wires and a portable battery: all this seemed to them just standard parental behaviour. Until one of them opened the fridge and was faced with bare shelves.

'You've not been shopping?'

Bemused silence from the aforementioned parents.

'Surely you guys aren't planning this Africa thing for real ?'

A smile and a tilt of the head.

'You're not going to leave us alone here and nothing in the fridge?'

'Are we to come with you?'

'When are you leaving?'

'How long are you going for?'

Finally they were noticing us. They were even asking us questions. They were finally realising that parents had a life too and plans and dreams for the future ... It was Africa to the rescue once again! 

🌍🌍🌍