Being from two homes but home in none
It seems more common to meet young individuals living in foreign towns, cities, and countries, who feel a sense of belonging to more than 1 geographical location, I am one of them.
Congolese of origin, born in South Africa in 1994, purposely planned out that way by my parents, I have lived in two homes feeling an equal sense of belong to both depending on where I would be at the time.
Within four months of my birth, I returned to the Democratic Republic of Congo, where I spend the first 10 years of my life. As a young child, I always claimed the country of my birth as my own. It gave me a sense of pride, to be more than just Congolese, I had the privilege of having two “nationalities”. As in most Congolese families, I was discouraged to speak my native dialect so that my french would stay up to standard, but this quickly made me feel less at home in my community.
At the age of 10, my mother decided that we should immigrate to South Africa, excitedly, we packed and were on our way. South Africa was more than I had imaged; beautiful mini Europe located in the south of the African continent. On my arrival in South Africa, I was exposed to a series of xenophobic remarks from peers and community elders.
The pain of not feeling wanted or welcomed in the country I had claimed by home for as long as I could remember, I closed myself up to its languages and customs.
2013, my first year in university, I felt a sense of regret from the choice I made in my early teens, so I decided to make the effort to learn the local dialects and make South Africa my home.
Reality sunk in each time I would return to the DRC, not being able to fully converse in my native language or sing the national anthem, I was constantly reminded of just how much I “do not belong”. On the other hand, just when I felt like South Africa had finally accepted me, my citizenship status would prove otherwise.
Torn between two countries to which I can not fully claim to be from, my sense of belonging roots itself on my person than a geographical location or a people. Like most diaspora, I have to learn to look beyond origins and documentations to forge my own identity, to be me.
