Barack Hussein Obama

Everybody who writes anything, anywhere, is at this moment, commenting on the newly elected president of the United States of America. When America votes, the world watches with keen interest and (now) fear, thanks to one Texan warlord. (Err...his congratulatory note to his successor: "What an awesome night for you, your family and your supporters. You are about to go on one of the great journeys of life. Congratulations and go enjoy yourself.'' The entertainment just doesn't end, does it!).

In the wee hours of his campaigning, I, along with so many other Pakistanis, was not too keen on endorsing Obama (never McCain - he is Republican!) given his tough rhetoric against Pakistan: against our territorial integrity. One would wonder if he too would be chanting the Bush mantra.

Thankfully, however, in his celebratory speech in Chicago (minutes ago), he did not for once utter the word "terrorism". Bush has said it all too much; it has become painfully irritating now.

I'm happy to have witnessed history being made. A black president in the White House. Please don't ask me to say 'African-American', because this is the time to say 'black'. It is beautiful that Obama doesn't use the race card, but this is the time to congratulate our dark-skinned brothers and sisters. Historically, they've seen hell on earth: in the US, in Britain, in South Africa, in Australia...hell, every which way you tread! Now to have one of them elected as the most powerful leader on earth is an achievement. Not too long ago, in 2005, a poem - nominated a winner, was circulated on the web, said to have been written by an African kid - mimicked the collective pain of the 'black'. I leave you with it:

When I born, I Black,

When I grow up, I Black,

When I go in Sun, I Black,

When I scared, I Black,

When I sick, I Black,

And when I die, I still Black…

And

you White fellow,

When you born, you Pink,

When you grow up, you White,

When you go in Sun, you Red,

When you cold, you Blue,

When you scared, you Yellow,

When you sick, you Green,

And when you die, you Gray…

And you call me colored?

Copyright (c) 2008 Saadia Malik