I was born in Kinshasa, DRC and moved with my parents to Belgium when I was two years old. Like many people who have experienced similar emigrations, I carry generational guilt, confusion and disenchantment. Guilt of being a chosen one, one who was granted the opportunity to escape poverty, insecurity and war that colonialism created. Confusion stemming from the realization that the warmth, love and energy of my family's native land could never be replaced, no matter where we went. And disenchantment from realizing the place we grew up upheld, and continues to uphold, racism and white supremacy directed against us. These realizations raised several questions.
How are we supposed to come together with our homeland? How can we embrace our roots and at the same time live in a system that is poisoning them? How can we love if we are a product of hate? Are we doomed to reproduce the same colonial patterns or do we have the ingredients within ourselves to create a change... a GENETIC BOMB.