What of the lands of tribes and nations who lived here first?
Who took the best with broken treaties and left the worst?
By whom were slaves bought, used and sold?
Who valued people less than gold?
Who told us racist lies until our hearts went cold?
-from “Hymn of Remorse,” off of the album Songs for a Revolution of Hope, produced by/with Brian McLaren.

A signpost to the major cities of the world directs visitors at Cape Point, South Africa, where the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet
Postcolonialism “matters because it is a matter of one’s identity. The colonial project robs one of what one has of the most precious: one’s identity.” So said Dr. Mabiala Kenzo, professor and theologian from D.R. Congo, during the first keynote talk of Amahoro Gathering 2009. Those who follow Jesus know that where we invest and root the core of our identity is everything. Everything. That foundational belief and practice begins to unveil, then, the reasons why postcolonialism matters for the worldwide community of believers, given our world’s history (and present state), and especially why it matters when entering into conversation with said community and Church in Africa. It is why postcolonialism, and Dr. Kenzo’s teaching, undergird and inform each Amahoro Gathering.
And what is postcolonialism? Is it so easily defined? It is certainly more than the literature, stories and expression that come out of previously colonized and oppressed peoples and places to add ‘balance’ to the dominant historical order and narrative (though it is certainly those things). It is more than just a marker of a time period. The breadth and richness of how one can and should approach postcolonialism is outside the bounds of one, restrictive blog posting. However, if one is looking to get started, or wants to start a conversation with what you already know, there will be linked prompts below. I mainly wanted to share the appreciative depths we felt at Amahoro for the framework of Dr. Kenzo’s African, and theological, perspective on the matter. In many respects, postcolonialism is who Amahoro-Africa is and why it does what it does (and how) for African leaders. As Dr. Kenzo queried to the other African participants, “Can Africans hear God speak in our own dialects?”
But I get ahead of myself…

View to a guiding light - Cape Point, South Africa
For my piece (and so I don’t overwhelm myself, haha), I will just add this, taken from my notes on Dr. Kenzo’s talk: Postcolonialism is a mindset – it is a spirit and an attitude. It’s being able to understand, and hold in tension (in our spirits, minds and hearts), not only the world’s painful history, but also the story of God’s continuing work of redemption and restoration, and how those two can and do come together. It is understanding and knowing our role in both of those stories, individually and especially communally. Postcolonialism is also defined by and necessitates a willingness to deconstruct prevailing orders and traditional “power centers” – in our histories, our literature, our leaderships and our theoogies – so that everyone’s identity can be reclaimed as special and unique. It is then, ironically and perfectly enough, that we can hope to honestly subscribe to a unity in our diversity, under God. I hope I’ve done some of all that justice. If not…or if you’re thirsty for more…
I highly recommend listening to Dr. Kenzo’s actual talk! You can download the mp3 HERE. Furthermore, the academic paper that the talk is taken from is linked HERE if you’re more visual than auditory. Which reminds me – both the talk and the paper are quite academic, so their density can take some extra time to absorb, but the depth of their insights and offering are well worth the effort.
Finally, those of you who know Tracy and the work of Restoration Village well will certainly know how much postcolonialism infuses the very essence of what her work, worldview, relationships, music and travels are about (see lyrics above/buy album). This “spirit and mindset” inform Restoration Village and the “why” and the “where” of its connections nationally and globally – . (One of the big draws of Harvard Divinity School is the expertise and teaching by some of the faculty on postcolonialism and theology/the Church/interreligious dialogue, etc.) Indeed, I’ll let Tracy speak for herself, in this excellent article published a year ago (under her mild mannered alter ego “Traci” Howe) at The Other Journal:
Postcolonialism and Songwriting: Our Challenge and Opportunity
Let the conversation continue! And may we know remembrance, forgiveness and living hope.
-Seth-
NEXT UP – Brian McLaren speaks at Amahoro Gathering 2009 on “Questions for a New Reformation”
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Rainbow at Cape Point, South Africa (if you can make it out). As fitting an image as I could imagine for the subject matter - many colors unified and suspended over a meeting and connection of oceanic proportions.
Tracy and I spent a good bit of time in prayer and meditation in run-up to the Amahoro conference and our month in Africa – hoping to prepare our hearts, minds and spirits for what we knew would be an experience we couldn’t truly prepare for. In one such instance, we were speed-writing poems/songs “back and forth” – i.e. one of us would come up with a title to a poem, one of us would write a line, push it across the table in the coffee shop and the other person would have to write a new line (JUST ONE line) building off of (ONLY) the previous line, etc…until we felt we were done. Below is one such poem/song that organically came out of that time that maybe we could’ve just titled “Postcolonialism, 2009.” Haha. I’m excited to share it with you now. Words by Seth W. and Tracy H.
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Dear Africa, I Love You
I don’t know you. I love you. I hope that’s allowed.
I have listened to stories, and I have imagined the sound of your voice
I can’t pretend any longer – the chorus is more
Lovely and true, made with love and promise and tears and wounds healing
Knotting together the scars and my throat
But if I listen, across oceans and lies and continents of history, I hear
The song you’ll sing is the song you’ve sung
But sound hits the wall of…you were stolen and broken and slain
Our plunder and riches clouds my eyes and my ears
And I cry at the strain and frustration of hearing, but not making out the words
Cry to me, love, yell scream and hush
“I love you” is the mantra I offer, both hands out, leading me forward “I love…
You – you offer a peace you give a knowing do you love me?
You, dear Africa, call me with song and history and long suffering…
Be long-suffering with me
Lay your hands on me and pray