A tall, dark, good-natured man changed my view of an entire country of people. Peter stole the show at the African Student Association's annual Jambo last night and he gave me a glimpse into the heart and mind of a Sudanese man.
The crisis in Sudan and the rest of the world's apparent indifference has been a sore spot for me since the beginning. While I probably thought and felt more about the attempted genocide than the average non-Sudanese person, like most of them, I had the same representation of black Sudan in my mind.
I often pictured a downtrodden, heartsick people fleeing their barely thriving villages in order to escape a murderous militia - a militia encouraged by the Arab government to eradicate them -and finally wasting away in refugee camps. The media gave me a healthy dose of starving children and weeping mothers, and as much as I was outraged and as much as I hate to admit it, I felt pity for this weak nation.
Weak is a word that might come to many non-African people's minds when they think of Africa. It seems like since the beginning of history Africans have been the people taken advantage of by man as well as nature. They were the slaves, they were colonized, they had the rash of tribal warfare, they had the famines, they had apartheid; and now they have the genocides and the world's highest number of AIDS-related deaths.
Africa seems to always be on the brink of destruction as the rest of the world stands in front of the scenes of devastation with a camera and a microphone, clucking their tongues at these poor Africans.
Although I considered myself better than those ignorant about Africa's rich history, I was also inflicted with the Poor Africa Syndrome.
And then there was Peter.
At Jambo, contestants would represent a country in Africa, perform during a talent segment, and have a Miss Universe-type of interview about the country they represent. We heard from representatives of countries like Egypt, Kenya, Senegal, Nigeria, Somalia and Sudan, among others.
The noteworthy performances made me proud to be a descendant of such a great people, but nothing could outweigh Peter's presence and his pride and enlightened awareness of his country.
In the introduction portion of the contest, he adamantly cleared up a misconception about a certain historic river.
"The Nile comes from Sudan. The White Nile and the Blue Nile meet in Sudan and then flow to Egypt," he said in a voice that defied anyone to try and tell him that the Nile doesn't belong to Sudan as much as it does to Egypt.
His fighting spirit also made itself apparent in his choice of performance for the talent segment. While everyone else performed traditional dances, sang songs and read poems, Peter gave the audience a demonstration of the Sudanese warriors' ancient pre-battle rituals. With makeshift shield and spear and his warrior's headdress, he mimicked the menacing thumping and jumping of the Sudanese warrior.
The audience members almost died of excitement.
I couldn't wait to hear what he would have to say about recent happenings in Sudan in his interview.
He was asked about his thoughts on the United Nations with a focus on their actions in the Rwandan genocide in the early 1990s. Peter had no qualms about denouncing the United Nation's actions toward Rwanda then, and toward the Sudanese genocide now.
"I think Kofi Annan should resign," he said in that wonderfully defiant voice. "Instead of doing what he needs to do, he's trying to come up with another way to define genocide. 'Inhumane treatment' - what is that?!" he said of the United Nation's refusal to call the attempted genocide in Sudan just what it is and to act accordingly.
I almost died of excitement.
Standing in front of me shining with intelligence and defiance was the proper representative of Sudan. A strong black man, who knew just what was happening, knew what should be happening, and was more than prepared to fight to make it happen.
Outmatched, oppressed, antagonized but certainly not down-trodden and weak; full of rich history and a fighting spirit, Peter is the perfect representative of Africa.
I hope everyone who sees all the Poor Africa images on television can get to meet a Peter and learn what I learned.
I didn't catch your last name, and I've never had an actual conversation with you; but if you're reading this, Peter, you're my hero.
