Going further back, it is either God created humans in Africa or we evolved from what the Supreme Force formed in Africa. In a way, we are all Africans. However, for the purpose of this presentation and based on modern classifications of who is or not from Africa, I will dwell here on those who could still trace their physical roots directly to Africa, the Peter Tosh Africans -- the children of Earth.

I group Africans in America into four broad groups:

 It is expected that, regardless of their ties to particular regions of Africa, the offspring of American Africans will melt into the America fabric eventually and become African Americans. I disagree. With steady immigration and increased population of particular ethnic entities, the following appellations may become common amongst the offspring of American Africans: Aladimma American (the Igbo), Arewa American (the Hausa), Ashanti American, Azanian American (Black South African), Eritrean American, Ghanaian American, Hutu or Tutsi American, Kenyan American, Senegambian American, Tiv American, Togo American, Odudua American (the Yoruba), etc. Thus, we would have a distinguished, if not distinguishable, group of Africans in America. The American African could be similarly grouped as the American Latinos are subdivided into Columbian Americans, Cuban Americans, Dominican Americans, Haitian-Americans, Mexican Americans, Puerto Ricans, etc.

African Americans chose the shortest month of the year for Black Heritage Month. This was based on the original concept of Carter G. Goodson, who established "Negro History Week" in 1926 to coincide with the birthdays of Frederick Douglas (February 14, 1817-1895) --the renowned abolitionist regarded in some circles as "the Father of Civil Rights Movement," and President Abraham Lincoln (February 12, 1809--April 15, 1865) - the Civil War president regarded in some circles as the Liberator of American Slaves. The celebration took a life of its own when in 1978 the United States Congress officially recognized and extended the event to the entire month of February in other to celebrate properly the achievements of Blacks in history. As Kwanzaa -- which Dr. Maulana Karenga established in 1966 in the midst of the Black Freedom Movement -- picked up steam, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day -- which President Ronald Reagan signed into law in November 1983 -- became nationwide celebrations, a big chunk of the thunder of February was stolen.

These days, we rarely read about the legacies left by Africans all over the world, especially those of continental Africa. For example, Ebony magazine (February 2002) listed ten prominent African Americans and no African, namely: Martin Luther King, Jr., Mary McLeod Bethune, Richard Allen, Prince Hall, Frederick Douglas, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, Booker T. Washington, W. E. B. Du Bois, and Thurgood Marshall. Meanwhile, no one remembers the man whose March 24, 1789 preface to the legendary self-published book rattled the conscience of the British House of Lords and House of Common and made abolition of slavery an eventual fait accompli: our own Olaudah Equiano, alias Vassa Gustavius, (1745 - 1797). In some literary circles, he is considered the Father of American autobiography. Nearer these shores, many others are fading into the background: Marcus Garvey, the foremost pan-Africanist, Edward Blyden, the famous anti-colonial pan-Africanist, Malcom X, without whom there might have been no nationally acclaimed Martin Luther King, Jr., etc. 

Prominently missing in Black History Month are foremost icons of African legacy such as Makeda (Queen of Sheba), Olaudah Equiano (the Igbo African whose autobiography marked the beginning of the long journey to abolition), General Touissant L'Overture of the 1791 Great Haitian Slave Revolt, Shaka Zulu, Jaja of Opobo, Patrice Lumumba (whom Belgians eliminated for his foresightedness), Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe, great pan-Africanist and Father of Nigerian Nationalism (November 16, 1904-May 11, 1996), Kwame Nkrumah, the Great One of Ghana, Sekou Toure of Guinea, Jomo Kenyetta of the Mau Mau fame, Senegal's Sedar Senghor of Negritude consciousness, Nelson Mandela, the icon of African anti-Apartheid struggle and success, Mwalimu (Dr.) Julius Kambarage Nyerere, the Great Teacher and Father of Tanzania (1922--Thursday, 14th October 1999), Dr. Kenneth D. Kaunda, and many other giants of great nations of Africa.

There is therefore the need for American Africans to revisit the legacies of their heroes past to include everything African from the dawn of mankind. There are so many issues to discuss from the pre-Egyptian Nubians to the modern immigrants of Lotto Visa program. For example, it has become too easy to run away with the obviously wrong assertion that some African nations made a fortune in chattel slave "trade," that slavery had existed and, in some cases as in Sudan and elsewhere in Sahara fringes of Africa, still exists. While this could be argued, the fact is that nothing could be further from the truth. What the West and ignorant history teachers sell as "slave trade" is the total dehumanization of Africans in the heinous transatlantic human traffic. It was so degradable we must define the sort of so-called "slavery" obtained in Africa as something closer to "indentured servitude," to which a human person might willingly subscribe or forced into by insurmountable circumstances and the desire to live longer. Nothing compares this obviously vile societal status to the total defrocking of a person of the essence of earthly existence: culture. Absolutely nothing.

There is a great need for a month in which Africans in America revisit much more than abolition history. There is a great need to revisit legacies left in antiquity and legacies we want to leave in America for generations yet unborn. Some African people in America (American Africans) have tried to establish days for the celebration of their cultural heritage, mostly around Labor Day-weekend conventions. They soon become unfocused jamborees, never rising to the level of Irish St. Patrick's Day Parade, Caribbean Carnival, Puerto Rican Day, etc. By 1996, the Baltimore-based World Igbo Council had instituted Igbo Day (May 30). On Thursday, May 1, 1997, the Society for the Advancement of Igbo Legacy (NÖNI) declared the entire month of May Igbo Heritage Month to incorporate the Nigeria-Biafra War Memorial Lecture series, which I had instituted. For logistic reasons, Igbo Day was floated as the last Saturday in May.

In May, many memorable occasions are celebrated. The very first day (May Day) is dedicated to all who work, as Africans have done since the dawn of time. In America, it is dedicated to law and order, into which we need to initiate future African leaders. Mother's Day holds in May; to Africans, mothers are supreme, and the African continent (the cradle of civilization) is the mother of humanity. Then there is the Memorial Day for all those lost in Africa's wars since Vasco da Gama stopped for fresh water and food on his way to India.

The merry month of May surely stands out as a great choice for all Africans to celebrate their legacy. And we can start today. 

It is about time Africans in America, especially American Africans, got together to address common problems. We have come of age. The days of waiting to "check back" to one's fatherland in the Motherland are gone for good. We are here for the long haul. Individually we have achieved a lot and made good in our various fields of endeavor; collectively, we can achieve even more. On the occasion of the 38th Anniversary of the founding of OAU (Africa Day), then Secretary-General Dr. Salim Ahmed Salim said in Addis Ababa, 23 May 2001: 

Need we say more?

Today is still early. It is still early to pick up the pieces while we celebrate continental African legacy and address current crises. It is still early to make sure that no young African comes to America and falls prey to a strange system. It would be inexcusable if, out of ignorance, another struggling African needlessly falls through the cracks. It would be unconscionable if we sit and watch recent immigrants make mistakes we made, and it would be idiotic if we repeat our mistakes. In many homes, young Africans born of two African immigrant parents cannot make a correct sentence in an African language. There are many other problems facing us, problems that can be articulated and analyzed in our various communities. Alas, there are neither locations nor occasions, no Olaudah Equiano Centers for African Writers, no Azikiwe Cultural Centers, no Nkrumah Counseling Centers, no Shaka Zulu Museum, no Diallo Centers for Immigration Matters, etc.

This May, American Africans have an opportunity to sow a seed that could germinate into a towering tree, an umbrella under which all Africans in every community could come together and give a soft but strong voice to our countless concerns by forming pan-African groups for community renaissance: African Community Renaissance Organization (ACRO) is a good working concept. "Igwe bu ike," as the Igbo would say: There is strength in numbers. Without the numbers, without learning from each other, without building bridges, and without unity in our diversity, we would be stripping the next generation of Africans in America of their essence of existence, just as Europeans did to 1600s Africans. Future generations would never forgive us, and no amount of reparation could compensate a deliberate act of detachment.

The abroad days of Nnamdi Azikiwes, Kamuzu Bandas, Kwame Nkrumahs, Obafemi Awolowos, Alex Ekwuemes, and Ibrahim Gambaris are gone. They came, they studied, and they left to make a mark in Africa. This generation came, studied, and stayed, slaving in a faceless and soulless setup that threatens to erase the essence of our existence and to shake the stability of our spirituality. And it is getting worse with the expansion in the chaotic culture of Cyberspace. We cannot afford to lose our African legacy in a system that could not wait to make a point about the superiority of their sort, saying: "After all, they came by choice, and they still lost it!"

If you don't use it, you will lose it; if you don't keep it, you've lost it.