I was flogged by my ancestors last night to tell their story.
Pay attention, for this is no fiction. This is your history (Africans).
Wait!
Keep a handkerchief beside you, you might need it.
At their arrival,
The sky romanced thunder and kissed lightening
They came as though our souls needed saving, that was why we were at the mercy of their salvation and let our guards down
They came holy,
preaching the gospel of Christ
so that we would believe, so we did
When the fangs of reality hit us, we became preys praying for the natural course of justice, even though it was far from the shores of our land
These predators were ruthless, brutal and blood tasty animals
Their eyes, bloodshot
and their clothes cloaked with inhumanity
They slaughtered our pregnant women at sight, so as to take away our sons and daughters
They gloried in Savaging our vulnerability
They brought the gospel in exchange for our souls
They brought education in exchange for our services
They tore apart our world piece by pieces, stalking daggers in the hearts of men as they left scars of history for generations yet to come
Spiritually,
Our gods abandoned us;
Orunmila betrayed us
Amadioha ran like a child for safety
Obatala stood and watched as we got raped on thorns and in turns
And when we couldn't bear it; We became our gods,
Our legends;
Hail Jaja of Opobo
The great one who fought like a lion protecting his territory from intrusion
Hail Nana of Itsekiri
Who fought tirelessly like a fearless elephant trampling over their domineering guts, who died glorified
Hail Oba Kosoko of Lagos;
The crafty fox who refused to bow to their wishes
Hail Oba Ovarenmwen of Benin;
The fearless hyena who fought and died courageously for what he stood for
In their countries, we became caricatures of entertainment
History has it that we earned titles such as;
Black monkeys
African Gorillas
Apes
Chimpanzees
Oh! What a pity!
We were sold
Sold by our very own brothers
A thousand slave for a mirror
Be it rainy or sunny days, the journey to our grave was ascertained
Even when we fought for a peaceful treaty, we failed woefully
Through whips and guns,
came the right source of motivation,
as hot tears crawled down our cheeks every passing second and the ever scorching sun massaging our backs
They played gods over our lives
Our voice was answerable to their guns
Tiredness was a problem best solved with the complementation of bullets or whips
Our tongues were beautifully uprooted when we complained
They shared out our families and friends amongst themselves, as if we were farm produce
Our brothers and sisters
Daughters and sons
Fathers and mothers
Were all at their mercy, as they parted with them in chains and pains
As they journeyed,
any rebellious act was settled in the court of the Pacific ocean
On our lips stood padlocks preventing us from stealing their produce
Our legs were clipped in chains
Our bodies were tattooed with the map of the world's cruelty
And back home:
Our Agricultural produce and artifacts cried for safety and pleaded for mercy, as they were being carted away to the land of no return
This poem arrows the emergence the whites and the struggles of some Africans who fought against the slave trade in Africa. Particularly, Nigeria. The poem starts by introducing us to the manipulative techniques that the whites used to successfully penetrate into Nigeria and exploit our human and natural resources.
The poem also lament about some of our artifacts that are now housed abroad. The Ivory mask of Benin is currently in the British Museum.
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"When the missionaries first came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said, “Let us pray.” We closed our eyes. When we opened them, we had the Bible and they had the land." — Desmond Tutu, 1984
I have read lots of stories about the issue of slave trade in Nigeria and it's so heartbreaking that they came under the guise of Christianity and when we became comfortable with their ways, they sold us out. I have seen old pictures of Africans been displayed like an animal in the zoo, it's a very pitiable sight