Out of Africa

The hottest topic in the parts of Africa that President Bush is visiting isn't his admirable support of HIV/AIDS funding for the region, funding that has changed areas where it is available. It isn't al-Quaida. It isn't even the weather, which has been (no surprise here) stiflingly hot.

The hot topic on the hot streets and lanes and dirt roads of that part of Africa is the Democratic primary here in the U.S. Even reporters are asking President Bush and African dignitaries about the question in press conferences usually reserved for the matters at hand: increasing funding for humanitarian causes on the continent.

A short excerpt from a NY Times piece that ran this morning captures the phenomenom best:

Outside of town, at the Mwenge Village market, Theresa Maridadi, 62, was seated with a newspaper in her lap, debating the Democrats with her son, Lucas Kahtoza, who lit up at the mention of Mr. Obama’s name and put his hand to his chest.

“Remember, Obama is from Africa,” he said. “From my heart, it is good.”His mother cut him off. “Why you want to like Obama because he come from Africa?” she demanded. She is for Mrs. Clinton: “Her husband was the president, she has more exposure. She’s mature, she’s a woman. It’s good for a woman to lead that country.”

This election is turning out to be a bigger deal than even I thought. I knew everybody in the country was talking about it and drawing up battle lines like Lee was shelling D.C. I knew that it's shaping up to be a political battle like none we've seen since the South seceded from the Union.

And mothers and sons are the same everywhere.

I didn't realize that families in Africa were having disagreements over the upcoming U.S. election, just like mothers and sons are disagreeing here. I didn't know they cared.

Me and my mama haven't seen eye to eye on politics since, possibly, before I was born. She supported Kennedy, but I wasn't around yet. Since then, Johnson's handling of Vietnam made her a Nixon Republican, something she's been ever since. And we've been disagreeing ever since I had a political conciousness.

This year, we've agreed to disagree. With all we've been through over the last year, it's something to laugh about more than to get mad about. I doubt that either of us will ever understand the other's politics. But I don't think we'll come to blows over our differences.

Mothers send their sons out into to the world with trepidation, I know. Not just concern about their safety, but also about their larger lives, from education to employment to relationships. And ultimately about their moral character.

And it's a mine field these days even more so than when I left home.

But I haven't done so badly. I have a stable life and am giving her advice about what to do with her money. Not that I have a lot of my own, but I can give her the benefit of my knowlege. I don't have any money to speak of, but I deal with a good bit of it every day at work.

Mothers and sons go on debating politics around the world. Mothers trying to impart their wisdom, and sons taking it where they find it. We say, "Yes, Mother," when what we mean is "I'll think about it, but not too much."

So to Lucas Kahtoza in Africa I say this: mothers are mothers are mothers, no matter what continent they come from. They will always be opinionated and think they're right. Go with your heart, and if your mother loves you, she may roll her eyes at your adult opinions, but will be able to agree to disagree.

And one day she will need you, more than she probably expects.