I write this list with a bashful heart as I was an Africa tattoo enthusiast. I almost etched my beloved continent onto my skin as a badge of eternal African pride. Here are 4 irksome questions I asked myself about the Africa tattoo that eventually convinced this little ol’ African against the venture:
There’s nothing like getting in after a long day of school, university or work—basically living and unwinding in front of a screen of some sort. What could be lovelier than curling up on your couch, tuning out of your life and tuning into the lives of others?
Imagine residing in the comforting cradle of your REM cycle, a deep yet dreamless sleep. Your breathing is even and your heart beat is pacing at a constant thud. Lub-dub-lub-dub-lub-dub. Then suddenly you sense an intrusion that disrupts your peace. A pair of hands seizes your shoulders, hoists you up by your cotton pajama sleeves and thrashes you about. You are jolted awake without warning and without your consent. Before leaving you to recollect yourself, a floating mouth appears between the phantom hands and utters:
You better stay woke, brother/sister/comrade/cadre/leader!