Please, Bring Them Home

Summary

The text is a poignant call to bring people back to their roots, emphasizing the spiritual and cultural significance of returning to one's homeland, particularly the African continent.

Abstract

The passage is a heartfelt appeal to bring individuals back to their ancestral homes, not for the allure of modern cities but for the profound connection to their heritage and the natural environment. It romanticizes the simple, yet rich, life of African villages, where community, tradition, and nature harmoniously intertwine. The author paints a vivid picture of a life filled with the genuine warmth of human interaction, the rhythm of ancestral drums, and the innocent joy of village life, contrasting it with the impersonal and artificial existence in urban settings. The text suggests that true fulfillment lies in the cultural and emotional grounding that one's birthplace provides, and it warns of the spiritual disconnection that may occur from living in a place where one's identity is not truly seen or understood.

Opinions

The author values the connection to one's cultural origins and the importance of being in a place where one's identity is deeply rooted and respected.
There is a critique of modern urban life, which is depicted as lacking the genuine community and natural beauty found in rural settings.
The passage conveys a sense of nostalgia for traditional village life, viewing it as more authentic and spiritually fulfilling than the fast-paced, often alienating, urban environment.
The author believes that dying in the land of one's ancestors holds a profound significance, linking it to the concept of returning to the "cradle of humanity."
There is an opinion that the true essence of home is not found in the comforts of modernity but in the simplicity and purity of rural living, where human connections and nature's rhythms prevail.

Where Their Names Are Not Hard To Say

I am very old,’ he said gravely. He added, as a matter of course: ‘I’m glad to die in Africa.’ 'And why?' 'Because this is where mankind began. The cradle of humanity is in Nyasaland. It’s been pretty well proved.’ 'Odd reason.’ 'One dies better at home.' 'Yet another one, I thought, who’s trying to find a home on earth. — Romain Gary, The Roots of Heaven

Bring them home not to the metropolis with city lights and broad streets but to narrow slits of village paths and mellow birdsongs under tree shades

Bring them home not to the cinema houses and their popcorn pubs but to the village square for masquerade displays and barefoot tournaments

Bring them home not to the discotheques and smoke-filled nightclubs but to the guttural sounds of the ancestral drums, the sassy violin strings of crickets by their holes and the soft benevolence of the moonlight nights

Bring them home not to the nineteenth floor of highrise flats in concrete jungles but to a softer base where they can walk on the grass to inspect mustached shrubs in the shadowy morning dew

Bring them home not to the cubicles stuffed with medications for every skin scratch but to compounds where children dance in the rain and ask the earthworms not to grow into snakes

Bring them home not to the heat of wired blankets but to the open fireside where folks roast maize, crack nuts and spread their fingers to soak the glow of the hearth and the warmth of the earth

Bring them home not to impatience and artifice of crowded townships but to the neighbourhoods where the souls are rich in smiles and laughter, where they stop to greet and meet and make welcome

Bring them home lest they grow airy roots that dance loose in the wind without grip, soul and anchor and be forgotten where their names are hard to say

OU0218