My parents went to Liberia a while back to take care of some property business. My dad has sense been back but my mother is still there. She sent videos and pics of the city and villages out there and it amazed me how much every one of those kids looked like me. Its crazy the different ways they amused themselves even though the country is still rebuilding itself after the war that tore it apart. Kids playing with very simple toys and soccer balls made from a rubber tree and cloth. My parents were just giving away dollar bills and the kids were chasing after the car. In my mind I was like damn these kids ARE me. I could have easily been born there and not have the opportunities I have now. My mother asked me to send some stuff so I packed most of my kicks and much of my cloths and sent them to her last year. These kids had sparkles in their eyes that I will never forget. Im sending more stuff over there over the summer. Its nothing for me but everything to them. That is my culture and I plan on going next year. I must see me roots and where my history is to know who I am.
Posted on: Tue, 22 Apr 2014 19:18:41 +0000
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