UTHRT. Happy New Year 2020!

Dear Friends,

Happy New Year 2020!

A year is gone; another year is here. The year 2019 has been a great one: I learned a lot, traveled, and grew.

I learned by following my own path. I started my journey on January 1, 2019, a winter day. As I traveled, I met an animal with four legs crawling and crying on the side of the road. I passed by her, minding my own business. My conscience, however, would not let me sleep. So, I returned and picked her up. I held her in my arms and shared the human touch that we all need in moments of sorrow. I also shared the little food I had whenever she cried, but she was gay and playful most of the time. After months of living together, I learned to admire her curious eyes, her beautiful heart, and her innocent ways. Though on a day when winter transitioned to spring, she decided to follow her own path. I was saddened, but as Khalil Gibran said, "Your children are not your children. / They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. / They came through you but not from you, / And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you." I carried her memory with me, and I learned never to let the child in me die.

At noon on a spring day, I met another animal with two legs. He told me he was in a hurry as he needed to pursue his summer dreams. I walked faster to keep up with him. He told me about his hope for peace, love, and freedom. One day, he said that he wanted to move to California, start an organic farm, and become a guru. Another day, he spoke of moving to New York, settling in an office, earning a lot of money, and having all the things that come with wealth. Last night he shared with me his dream of revolution. He believed that the world was sick, and it was his duty to burn the house and rebuild it with his own blood, if necessary. As time passed, I learned to admire his sense of wonder, his energy, and his confidence; he was a dreamer.

As Khalil Gibran also said, "Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity." We spent the summer together camping in the wilderness. We swam in rivers, lakes, and the ocean. We climbed hills, descended ravines, and walked steep paths without blaming each other. On a day when summer turned into fall, I shared my intention to sit under a tree, rest, and live in the moment. I wanted to write a song, sing it in the wild, listen to the wind, dance, and look at my surroundings, paint or take pictures. He did not see it that way, as he was always living in his summer dreams, so we parted ways. I wished him well. I promised not to let the youth and the dreamer in me die. 

As fall was moving in, I saw an animal with three legs passing by, carrying eighty-five years of life experience. I decided to end my respite and travel with her since people you meet always teach you something (if you have the desire to learn). I asked her if she needed any help. She calmly told me she was okay. We walked slowly and talked little until the final days of autumn. One day at dawn, I found her body falling like leaves towards the eternal night of life. I sat, cried over her death, and I heard Khalil Gibran's voice asking me not to cry—"for life and death are one." I cleansed her body with my tears, and I buried her under a tree, reflecting on our last evening of conversation. She told me that life is a circle; we live, and then we die. We came from the dark to the light, and from the light, we will return to the dark. As you wake up, give thanks to the universe, and as you go to bed, again give thanks to the universe because we don’t know what will transpire tomorrow. Every day when you wake up, look at the horizon, admire its beauty, and never chase it. She told me to always be at peace with myself, despite the changing weather. She also advised me to travel because travelling is the best school. Finally, she told me to travel lightly, without prejudice, and never let fears or convenience steal my freedom. I continued my journey, carrying her wisdom. 

Months later, I arrived in two neighboring towns separated by a road. I went to the town on the left side of the road. The residents there welcomed me with food and lodging. The next morning, they asked me to join them to fight for their rights. The day after, they told me their neighbors from the right were responsible for all the evils that the world is facing. After months of fighting for our rights, I asked whether they ever thought about their own duties. Further, I asked whether it was okay to cross to the other side of the road and engage in a dialogue with their neighbors. The next day, I was subjected to the silent treatment, denied food, and my bed was taken. I took my belongings, thanked them, and crossed the road to the right. 

At the town on the right, I was also welcomed with food and lodging. The residents there invited me to join their classes where they were taught about their duties and how awful their neighbors are. One day, I asked them whether they had courses about their rights and whether they were willing to cross the road and talk to their neighbors. I was called unpatriotic. I left both worlds, agreeing with Alexander Hamilton, who said, "Give all the power to the many, they will oppress the few. Give all the power to the few, they will oppress the many." Today I strive for balance between the left and the right, and I never let partisan politics corrupt my views. 

My travels this year took me to the Fouta Djallon. On January 26, 2019, I arrived in a small village surrounded by two rivers and hills called Dogol Djigui. I reconnected with my ancestors and learned about my roots. I continued my walk, following the footsteps of the Fulbe, who arrived in the region in the fifteenth century. They established the kingdom of Fouta Djallon after the battle of Talansan in 1726. I hiked through Telemile, Mamou, Pita, Dalaba, and Labe. I stopped by waterfalls and the Museum of Fouta Djallon, and I was welcomed in Timbo at the tomb of Karamoko Alfa, the founder. I also met the children, women, men, and elders of Fouta. Finally, I came across cows and drank their milk. I believe that, as the winds of social media evolve into a hurricane, we all need to be rooted in order to stand. 

I grew in 2019 by finding balance. I served my community through the One Heart for Africa organization (www.oneheartforafrica.org) and advocated for human rights Under theHuman Rights Tree (www.underthehumanrightstree.org). I believe in service and respecting human rights—both traits that can help us build a better world.

The journey of 2019 is coming to an end. The year 2020 is here, and I will look out at the horizon, enjoy its beauty, but never chase it. I take this opportunity to wish you and your loved ones a happy new year 2020!

Sincerely,

Alpha