When starting this column, I wanted to write “I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills.” But that particular sentence has already been taken by another writer, as it opens Isak Dinesen’s classic memoir, “Out of Africa.”

I wanted to write something uplifting and beautiful for you, like Dinesen’s sentence, but I’m forced to deliver bad and ugly news.

Africa really is the dark continent, with only one bright spot – which I’ll tell you about if you stick around and read this whole piece.