An odyssey of self-discovery

The other day I told a friend that I was going to Mali. Tongue-in-cheek, he said he would be going to Shakawe. He did not have to say it, but hear him say, Relax dude, you are not going to Paris or Miami!

I refused to be put down. I was thrilled. For me, the prospect of making sense of African history where we learnt about the great Mali kingdom was an inescapable temptation. The very idea of travelling to Timbuktu had a surreal effect on me. It would be an ego trip. Timbuktu, that gloss on any pan-Africanist's face. Timbuktu, the living example that Africans are not imbeciles but descendents of great innovators who knew and studied science, astronomy, governance, medicine and technology even before European colonisers came to the African shores.