What story will you tell?

What do you do at a decade?

Do you stop, do you look back,

At the tracks you have trekked,

At the lines in that have fed into it?

Do you trace a map?

Of all the miles that have led to now?

Do you wear the ones well worn?

By the hundreds of heels that have helped

To draw these grooves into the land.

With its layers of grass and sand?

These paths that sway in and out

So that the landscape itself speaks

Of the ones that have walked it.

Because FLIA is these paths,

Woven together like strands,

That emmeshed, create a stronger rope.

A decade of movement, action. Traversing.

Where people’s paths cross, overlap, intertwine,

For the duration of a doctorate,

The moments of a masters,

Or the enduring space of a bond.

What do you do at a decade?

These tracks they speak, asking:

What do you do in a decade?

How do you document a decade dedicated?

To a continent of contradictions?

Because Africa is not linear. Africa can be unforgiving.

Africa is not ‘digestible’, it can cause a stomach-ache, a heartache.

But Africa’s heart is beating, and FLIA is not fleeting.

Together you have walked, ever seeking,

better questions, more places of meeting.

Together, to forge deeper meaning.

From evidence to events, programmes to panels,

Fellowships and friendships, from questions to… more questions.

Publishing papers, books and blogs,

Asking how Africa eats, How Africa Trades,

The sequence of Africa Summits, towering, tall,

Forming a mountain range of ideas,

Moulded by the minds in this very room,

Forecasting a grand future,

Learning from a forgiving past,

From those who have passed,

The Mkandawires and Allens, whose steps we follow,

Whose voices still echo,

Making these issues legible,

Lending a language to policy,

Speaking today Africa’s prophecy.

So yes, it’s about theses and literature reviews,

But deeper – it’s about re-defining,

Breaking out of a mould that is confining.

About recognising the artful beauty in the hands we hold,

Finding a home, residing with creatives,

Whose tracks trace another way, ever bold

For fellows who have walked among the herd and flown away,

Paving a promise for us,

PfALers, converging from a thousand unwitting paths.

Into these corridors and classrooms,

Where you can smell jollof cooking in the sound of someone’s voice,

Where in a hug you feel a wide, open sky whilst on the looping library stairs.

PfAL is being the only African in the classroom.

But feeling the heat of their summer sun in a smile through the cold British winter.

Where the WhatsApp group chats still spark their debates,

Even though it might be a few years since the graduation date.

Pause, together: FLIA, look what you have done in a decade.

But Mayi Ya Ebale Ezongaka sima te.

The water of the river never flows backward.

Metsi a noka ga-nke a elela kasa morago.

The water of the river never flows backwards.

So,

What do you do for the next decade?

Where it could be tempting, let us not rush.

But slow down and remember three things.

One.

May we remember to be humble?

Understand that from London skies,

Africa is morphed, reduced to its

Rudiments

From here,

The Horn is no more than the horns and,

Thorns that have laid bodies to the ground,

Bodies at our shores.

But remember,

The Horn is also an instrument,

Where sounds and dances adorn.

The shoulders of the Habesha.

The necks of the Beja.

And the legs of the Afar.

Remember.

Two.

Let us remember the tracks,

Our ideas will leave marks,

The minds of Academics from

Institutions like this one

Have shaped the past of the continent,

And will shape its future.

Forging the path of its development,

Its under-development.

For better and for worst.

Ask the ones maladjusted from the

Structural programs birthed,

In cities such as this.

May we be mindful of the trails that will,

Remain

Remember.

Three.

May we remember to continue.

The dream is ours to bring alive.

We have been brought to life for such a

Time as this.

May we choose to be the one who sees.

The one who speaks for

The millions of dreams,

Soon to be 1 in 4.

We’ve been forged in these halls,

For the world at large.

So, let’s take action.

Take into account the ones at the margins.

And march on.

Following onto the track others have trekked.

Tracing our own.

Remembering always,

That these trails will linger for centuries.

FLIA, what story will they tell?

Written and performed by Benita Manzengo and Eilidh Taylor.