On behalf of Mother Africa, I extend my deepest apologies to African Americans for the part our shared ancestors played in their enslavement. We must move forward—forgiving. I search for hope, for silver linings. I find it immensely hopeful that beautiful people and things, like jazz, were born of those dark times.
I grew up in Kenya, where no one ever called me black. Even references to my Africanness were few and far between. Queue my move to the Western world, where I was immediately informed that I was black. I always want to say that I am not actually black.