Two Nubian boys that I photographed in a large village near Aswan, in mid-July 2008.  Aswan, Egypt's fourth largest city, is the capital of Egyptian Nubia.  My tour groups have been going to this village for the past two years and will go again next July.  We always bring school supplies and make a cash donation.  Why don't you make plans to come with us.  In love of Africa, Brother Runoko

An Aboriginal Australian child from northern Australia near Darwin.  . . . In Australia I hope to meet with my friend, sister Gracelyn Smallwood (the Queen of Aboriginal Australia) and visit a number of Aboriginal communities, especially in central and northern Queensland—a state that has been dubbed by the Indigenous people of Australia as "KKK country."  Indeed, Queensland has been identified as the most racist place in all of Australia.  Many of the bitter enders—white folks who refused to accept the end of apartheid and the beginnings of African rule in South Africa and Rhodesia/Zimbabwe—left Southern Africa and settled in this part of Australia.  But that is exactly where I am going—to a place where our people have been treated like two-footed beasts!  In truth, Aboriginal Australians only began to be regarded as human beings by the government of Australia in January 1967.  You read me right!  Before a national referendum forty-one years ago the sisters and brothers in Australia were officially classified as "plants and animals." 

A delightful photo of a young girl from Malawi.  The African country of Malawi is hard to pin down geographically.  You can call it part of East Africa, Central Africa, or Southern Africa.  It is in the center of Tanzania, Mozambique, and Zambia. I visited Malawi for four or five days in late June/early July 2007.  . . . Malawi was a real breath of fresh air.  Like much of Africa, Malawi is an economically poor but a stunningly beautiful country.  It has high mountains and exquisite lakes. . . . I flew from Dar es Salaam (the capital of Tanzania) to the city of Blantyre, Malawi via Nairobi, Kenya.  I spent two nights in Blantyre, another night in Lilongwe (Malawi's capital), and a final night in a chateau on Lake Malawi itself.  On that last night I went to bed and woke up to the sound of the waves caressing the beach just outside my door.  It was truly an evening to remember. . . . I loved the people of Malawi.   Indeed, I think that the people of Malawi are it's greatest resource.  They were fantastic.  I would describe them as gentle and friendly, humble and kind, proud but not arrogant.  They were as beautiful as the countryside.  And that is saying a great deal. . . .She is standing just in front of the lake and her smile captures the heart of the people of this wonderful African nation. 

A woman in Niamey, Niger, in December 2007.  . . .While in Niger I was told that seventy percent of the people are unemployed and that there is only one doctor for every 100,000 people.  Even if you do have a job, even if you are say, a teacher for example, you might only make the equivalent of $50 a month and even then you might not get paid for six months at a time.  Most people are simply desperately poor. This particular sister I think belongs to the people called the Djerma.  Most of the people of Niger are Hausa.  The Djerma are the second largest group.  Other groups include the Peul-Fulani (including the Wodabe), the Tuareg, the Kanouri, and the Toubou.  During the time that I was in Niger I saw and met and photographed numerous representatives of these sisters and brothers. . . .So in the middle of an interview with this Wodabe brother this beautiful Black woman slowly walked down the street.  I could see that she had some kind of deformity in one of her legs.  She was lame.  But she had her head up.  So, I began to think, let me give some money.  Let me do what God has given me to do.  Let me be crazy one more time. Now Niger is a staunchly Muslim country and I knew that it could be considered disrespectful if I just walked up to her with the equivalent of five or ten US dollars in my hand.  So I asked her if I could take her photo.  She said yes and then I gave her the money. 

Tuareg brother and a young Wodabe man in central Niger.  The Tuareg are the people of the desert.  The Wodabe are a traditional group of the Peul-Fulani.  I found both groups to be utterly fascinating.  And I liked them both.  Neither had met an African-American before.  The Wodabe told me that they had heard that they were Africans in America.  The tale was told to them by white American tourists.  But these good white folks somehow left out the particulars.  So the Wodabe were left wondering how those Africans in America got there.  I quickly cleared that up. This photo was taken by me coming from a arts and crafts market on the outskirts of Niamey.

This is the Black land of Morocco. . . .  Indeed, places like Zagora and Ouarzazate and the whole area is for all practically purposes a Black region.  I felt right at home here and people insisted that I was a local.  They would not believe that I was an African from the United StatesI took this photo of a sister who was cleaning up my room when I checked into my hotel in the city of Ouarzazate.  I fell in love with the place the moment I arrived and believe that I could have stayed there forever.  In Sarharan Morocco in April the roses bloom and the dates ripen.  The melons are sweet and cactus pears are cheap.  The kasbahs are magnificent and the people are friendly.

Morocco, in the northwest of Africa, has tremendous diversity and a large Black population.  Most of these sisters and brothers are Berbers and Tuaregs, and are concentrated in the Saharan regions of Morocco going towards the border with Algeria.  Places like Zagora and Ouarzazate and the whole area is for all practically purposes a Black region.  I felt right at home here and people insisted that I was a local.  They would not believe that I was an African from the United States.

Saharan Berber Sisterhood

Batwa in the Mountains of the Moon in Eastern Uganda. . . .This photo was taken along the eastern border of Uganda and western border of the Democratic Republic of the Congo in June 2007.  The photo was taken on the Ugandan side.  We are standing in the Mountains of the Moon.  This is the area where it has been argued that the ancient Egyptians came from. . . . I always wanted to go to the Mountains of the Moon. And I always wanted to meet the Batwa—the so-called Pygmies.  In Swahili they are called the Bambiti.  . . . These sisters and brothers—the Batwa—were formerly hunters and gatherers dwelling in the Central African rain forests.  Now they have been uprooted and resettled in a dry and barren area, and made to perform for European tourists.  The main preoccupation, for the men at least, seems to be drinking alcohol.  Such is their pitiful attempt to drown away the day to day trials and tribulations of their lives. In this group I met the King and Queen of the Batwa. 

Runoko in India speaking at a reception in New Delhi in April 1998.  It was my third trip to India.  That night Dalits (Black Untouchables) came from all over Northern India to meet and greet me and my tour group.  Next to me is brother Dalit Ezimalai.  He was the keynote speaker that night.  His topic was the "Life and Times of Malcolm X."  Remember that this is in India!

African Woman in Turkey—My Turkish travel agent assured me that there were no Black people in Turkey.  But I insisted and he told me that he would help me look.  We found that in Southwest Turkey there were indeed small pockets of our people. They were brought there from Sudan, Egypt, and Ethiopia during the time of the Ottoman Empire.

These particular sisters are the descendants of African people taken from the Sudan about 150 years ago.  They are very poor and suffer from racial discrimination.  I spent most of a Saturday morning and part of an afternoon with them.  When I told them of the African-American experience with enslavement things got very emotional.  They told me that I was the first Black person that they had met who either was not from the Sudan or Turkey.  They were very excited by my presence and we had a lot to talk about.

The sister in this photo had a real special kind of dignity and she is representative of the others that I encountered.

Fijian boy—photographed in a fairly remote village on a distant Fijian Isle in March 2003.  

Fiji, on the borders of Melanesia and Polynesia, is a beautiful place with wonderful people who all say that they come from Africa.  I've already been twice and will probably go again next March leading a group.  And next month, God willing, I venture deeper into Melanesia than ever before.  It should be a fabulous trip. 

One thing about this photo: keep in mind that this is a completely "unmixed" Black child perfectly healthy and normal.  He does not have a white parent and a Black parent.  He is a little brother in Fiji.  The hair is naturally blond. 

Southern Sudanese—taken just after a lecture of mine at the University of Juba in Southern Sudan at the end of May 2007. We had a good number of people come out and I gave a good lecture. Juba is deep in the south of Sudan. It was the epicenter of the fifty year war with the Khartoum government of Sudan and the people of the south.

The area was devastated and I felt very clearly that this had been a major war zone. The infrastructure--roads, housing, electrical power--I think was worse than any place that I can remember and that is really saying a great deal. But the people carried their heads high and remained unbeaten, and I slept just a short distance from the White Nile.

Here I am after lecture with some of brothers that night.  I really was envious of that melanin!  Now just compare this photo with the one that I am about to send you from a trip to Fiji in 2003 and see the broad range and the beauty, in all of its variations, of our people.

Young Brothers from Northern Australia—Australia is my next international travel destination and after that Papua New Guinea, in parts of which, I am told, "dwell the blackest people on earth."  Now that I am looking forward to seeing!