Africa, My Story

They packed us in ships and boats. Sardines have more space in their cans as compared to us, Low ventilation, no water, little food, Out of our land of abundance, land of riches, land of gold, We sailed off to the land unknown, ‘Door of No Return’, that was the last door I saw in my homeland. With shackles on our necks, ankles and wrists, we were led sheepishly to the ship, When we complained, they lashed us, when we rebelled, they killed us, And the weak amongst us; they were maltreated. My sister was force raped yesterday; it’s my fiancée’s turn today, We were supposed to get married last Sunday, “I’ve been shot in one knee”, an Old Norse slang, I’m married; I was going to tell my friends, But the sun sure didn’t smile on me on Sunday, Now in a new land, new soil, we’re auctioned like some merchandise, I thought they only wanted our gold, or was it not enough; the additional cocoa, Now we work on their plantations, from dawn until dusk, We’re forced to speak the Whiteman’s language, We’re forced to eat their food and dress like them, And the very thing that make us Africans; our pride, It’s been taken from us, So I wonder the kind of future that lies ahead for our unborn generations, I wonder if our rich values, our norms, our traditions, I wonder if they would be passed down to them, Africa, my story.