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1 year ago

I was flogged by my ancestors last night to tell their story.

Pay attention, for this is no fiction. This is your history (Africans).



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



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



                     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.


Thank you for dropping by. Do well to subscribe for more poems, articles and stories. Do well to equally share your thoughts in the comment section. Stay blessed.

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Written by
1 year ago


"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

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1 year ago

Indeed, bro. Let's learn from our history, so that it won't repeat itself again. Thanks for your contribution. It means a lot to me.

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1 year ago