A while ago, my mum asked me how I feel as an expat. Do I miss Africa, do I still feel African, do I still remember my heritage or have I assimilated completely into my new country? Do I even think about Africa still? I didn't have the words to answer her until I read this poem. It sums up what I feel so perfectly:

Africa smiled a little when you left. “We know you,” Africa said, “We have seen and watched you, we can learn to live without you, but we know we needn’t yet.” And Africa smiled a little when you left. “You cannot leave Africa,” Africa said. “It is always with you, there inside your head. Our rivers run in currents in the swirl of your thumbprints; our drumbeats counting out your pulse, our coastline, the silhouette of your soul.” So Africa smiled a little when you left. “We are in you,” Africa said. “You have not left us, yet.”
- Bridget Dore