Poems

Tribute to our indentured/ancestor grand-parents: Human cargoes and shields

Rev. Surujlall Motilall*

They were all humans, just as of you and of me,

tall and small, women, children and men to be.

They were all chained and tied together,

as wild animals, prepared for the slaughter.

They were transported by ships across rough seas,

loaded as cargo-bags, to full all empty spaces.

From bow to stern, below to above deck masses,

They were all counted and graded in classes.

With steel chains around their necks to toes,

they were nothing more but human cargoes.

Tied to each other as animals to the slaughter,

harnessed away in groups by their slave traders.

They sailed the rough seas to unknown destination,

for days and weeks they tossed with dissatisfaction.

some died by brutalisation and some by starvation,

who cared the traders and sailors were not human.

They looked like humans but they were all demons,

smiling faces and painted clothes they looked down.

Into each corners of the sailing and tossing vessel,

only to count the survivors, with their blowing whistle.

The withered were thrown away like dried wooden heap,

into the deep for their bodies to rot and their souls to keep.

Breathless with their hearts in their hands and with dried lips,

counting their days in many ways for survival on time to clip.

A slice of bread to eat without any meat or dare to retreat,

were their daily diet from day to day which had to repeat.

Of its own course to tell with their heads and souls to sell,

to unknown and unmasked masters by words to compel.

They were unloaded as sand bags in chains by ship cranes,

counting their pace by inches to line up for sales with pains.

Bowed to their masters as they were counted in heaps,

graded in classes packed in shelves to be sold very cheap.

They were assorted in different direction with no option,

they were assaulted, insulted, molested without any reason.

They bowed in surrender to their masters with much wonders,

hoping for their plight to end and for God to send  a Redeemer.

They were known as indentured slaves from the East and South,

mostly from India and Africa their slave traders were Europeans.

Who have sustained their claims as Gods of this our universe,

they have bordered their claims to be the first and will traverse.

They never stopped to realise the existence of humanity,

whom have the consistency of moral dignity with humility.

They were there to find with awful grind to rob and to cheat,

with suppression and exploitation were their drums to beat.

The natives fought them silently with bows, arrows and spares,

they retreated with smoke guns and none originals were spared.

They invaded the East for tea the South for precious stones,

the West for sugar and gold and the North for oil tones.

Their called theirs smuggled slaves “immigrant workers”,

then “ethnics minority” then “contracted labourers”.

then “aliens”, now they been called “illegal immigrants”,

what a disgrace to this type of human race, so bare faced.

My four grand parents with other relatives were on their stocks,

the Dutch and British who have had so ugly faces as one flock.

Not as humans as they have treated humans with demonic forces,

to toil daily with tasks on sugar plantations without happy faces.

From slavery by Dutch tyranny in Netherlands Guiana,

my grand father fled to British Guiana with his dear son.

like many other Dutch slaves they were all on the run,

the dense forest was open to shield humans from open guns.

Naked were they as leaves to heal and covered their wounds,

for at last to be strong and healthy away from their demons.

They were pursued relentlessly but were all invisible in sight,

not to be seen by their demons as they were out of their plight.

The invaders and slave traders were known as colonialists,

with impurity on their shoulders they became imperialists.

To cheat and to rob the sovereignty and national resources,

and to destroy what God has created like this our universe.

They have surrendered to themselves with hopes to return,

leaving our ruined lives with nothing much more to earn.

They are the devils of today causing our world to go astray,

invading our air spaces which is causing us much dismay.

Our today’s national resources are of their benefits,

as they have desired such for nothing or for very cheap.

We have no other alternative but for us to keep working fit,

as we sold to them their chosen prises in wholesale heaps.

They are still in control of our daily life and livelihood,

exploiting and manipulating us destroying our forest wood.

Their sailing ships into our waters and air-crafts in our air,

giving to us grievances with pollution in our hemisphere.

No silent nights or peaceful days that comes to our delight,

as it comes to our daily life living with much despair and fright.

Much more of what we can do non-violence is our only fight,

standing amidst, watching and looking helplessly with plight

When would they stop to realise that this life is not to despise,

or to destroy the elements of existence but to have endurance.

In morality as humans we are all of one substance no otherwise,

to live in peace, harmony and comfort, as humans with prudence.

Today we tribute emancipation which we uphold with emulation,

that we can consolidate ourselves as one fellow race of humans.

No to colonialism, slavery, discrimination, exploitation or manipulation,

as we strived together in embracing the will of solitude to civilisation .

We are the survivors blessed with special powers of endurance to withstand hate and oppression. Despite centuries of rejection and marginalization, we taught our present rulers all they know and are rightly mystified at the lack of gratitude for our efforts. Remember the sky is darkest just before dawn and then there’s that burst of brilliant sunlight. We are descendants of those who survived the Middle passage and then the inhumane brutal rigours of the slave system. That unwittingly physically fortified us. Then we developed ourselves intellectually to destroy the lie that we were inferior and only suitable for menial jobs. We are the products of the strongest, the smartest and the fittest. We are special. We are proud descendants of slaves and proud of our ancestors, despite centuries of efforts at dehumanization and belittling of their accomplishments.

“It doesn’t matter where you come from as long as you are a black man, you are an African.

*Rev. Surujlall Motilall lives in Roosendaal, the Netherlands. His email: S.Motilall@telfort.nl

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The War You Could Not Win

(In memory of Mallam Shekairu Agbabiaka)

By Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema*

When a pitcher breaks

we do not despair;

there are countless pitchers in the market.

There is always water in the stream

but when the stream dries up

what shall we do?

If a cloud covers the sky

it matters little;

the tears of heaven will be rinsed by the sun's loving hands.

But when the sun mourns

who will comfort her?

Like Hailey's Comet

you blazed the sky of our lives

rarefying us with your thousand points of light.

They might not have known you in the courts of the mighty

but you built permanent palaces in our hearts.

You might not have sat with kings

but you reign forever in the souls of the children you moulded.

You might not have counted dollars

but your virtues spoke their weight in hundred-karat gold.

Praying that God damns that day of dark tidings does me no good.

It is marked by the pin of fate.

The day you sccumbed like a warrior.

The zest was in your eyes;

the taste for God's great gift.

But who can question the spinners of destiny's web?

This was a war you could not win.

Tigers roar and tear

but in the end they fall to the hunter's gun.

This tiger, the tiger of death

has fallen to the gun of the Resurrection.

(Mallam Agbabiaaka, a young and dynamic Islamic Religious Studies teacher, was the poet's friend)

*Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema is a writer and teacher based in Lagos, Nigeria. His email address is henrykd2009@yahoo.com  

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The Woman

By Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema*

Women are plentiful
but The WOMAN is as scarce as an American visa for Africans
in the post-Mutauallab world.
They say sex makes the world go round
but love is the world's wheel.
The love that fills my heart like pounded yam and ofe achaara
comes from YOU.
YOU;
the oasis that cooled my burning throat;
the rainbow in my sky;
the dream that sweetens my sleep.
In your eyes I found the map to my destination.
In your arms I found the repose for my bones.
From your lips I drank the wine
that made me heady with love.
Darlings come and go
but THE DARLING
has come to stay.

*Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema is a writer and teacher.

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The Way Destiny Goes

By Shammah Sraima Hart*

The way destiny goes,

sometimes is  difficult to understand.

There is love in life,all the ups and downs

seek a way through to  cover up to be able to bear.

To hold together what they had formed,all those years.

In various lives it becomes a habit to stay with the person

Only to start a new life ,I have reached this far

and so many years have passed by.

What more is there  to explore.

But on one day my eyes become dark.

As shadow passing in front of me,that I did

not look back.

I got a power that I can’t detect where it came from.

Suddenly I wanted to run, fly, lie down and roll over.

I did not want to see the night fall not to miss

your shadow which has given me the reason

and  that the sun keeps shining  for me to see it.

Because of this shadow I could not look back,

my ups and downs… I never did want to mention  them.

I don’t want to know about nothing that gives me headache.

A new adventure I wanted in my life, but all the hope I had left me.

I blindly follow that ghost to grasp it and make it mine,

see if  I can move in the direction that it moves.

I thought with all my strength for him to stand and stop.

But all that I did,  he did not want to become one with me.

He splited (?)and left me with all my new visions.

He left my presence,he left and did not want to know nothing

about me.

With all my pain  I lifted up my head and looked in front of me

knowing that the shadow is not longer with me.

Again I  see my ups and downs come up

Now  I don’t understand

Suddenly I did  not know what it is I wanted

What is the reason?

Is this because I am tired of all the ups and downs?

Is it fbecause of the shadow that passed in front of me?

Or is it that I surely got tied?

Destiny,destiny who knows how my destiny will be.

*Shammah can be reached via shammah.ministrie@hotmail.com or tel. 06 24 797 411/06 43 646 788

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He Found Me!

By Shammah Soraima*

I was lost and nowhere to be found

I was in the pit so deep that I couldn’t be reached

I was so filthy, dirty and in a mess

But He found me

I was lost in the wilderness wanting to find my way home

I was wondering to and for didn’t know where to turn

I was in a state where hope was nothing for me

I was at the point of no return and felt

No one could reach me

 But He found me

I was crippled by life am dots situation

I was so far from where I belong

My folks tried to find and bring me home

But I was so dead and buried in the thumb of blindness

Like Lazarus, but yet I was living

Life became so lost and frustrating for me

 But He found me

In my desperation of finding my way home

I stumbled into a word held me captive

I found a group whom I trusted

I thought they can help me

But I found my self bound in drugs

I became lost just as those I thought could help me

Life was meaningless

I felt I should end my life

But at the point of ending my life, cause all hope was gone

There He found me

At the points where no hands can reach

There He found me

For He said, His hands are not to short

That He can’t reach me

It is just somebody that came on my way and told me

That Jesus loves me

He found me brought me home

to places flowing with milk and honey                      

To places of abundance and of life                      

Now I’m found and found indeed

Because Jesus found me

…..

Papiamento

Ela Enkontra Mi

Mi tabata perdí i sin por a wòrdu hañá

Mi tabata den pos asina skondí

Ku mi no por a wòrdu mirá

Mi tabata asina fis i shushi

Pero E a haña mi

Mi tabata den desierto buskando kaminda pa kas

Mi no tabata sa unda pa bai

Mi tabata den un situashon

Kaminda speransa no tabata nada pami

Mi tabata na punto pa kaba ku mi mes

Mirando ku niun hende no por a yudami

Pero E a haña mi

Mi tabata asina leu for di kaminda ku mi méster tabata

Bida a bira nada pami

Mi a haña mi den un situashon

ku nunka mi por a pensa di haña mi aden

Esnan ku a bisa mi ku nan por yuda mi,

A guiami na droga, frustrashon i detenshon

Sin sa kiko mas pa hasi

Pero E a haña mi

Mi ker a mata mi kurpa pa asina mi tin sosiegu

Pero na e momentu ku mi a pensa ku ta basta

Señor Hesus a papia i bisa mi

Ku Su mannan no ta kòrtiku pa toka mi

Hesus a trese mi bèk kas

Ta un hende a yega, djis bisa mi, Hesus stima mi

Ku mi a bira i sigui e kaminda di lechi i miel

Speransa mi a haña den dj’E

Un bida nobo ma enkontrá

Hesus a haña mi.

Si bo ke papia bel mi, shammah

Shammah.ministrie@hotmail.com  Tel: 0643646788 / Skype: shammah37

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Change your negative thoughts

By Shammah Soraima*

Did you know that sadness can make you sick, sadness in your heart, in your being, pain in your chest?

You are hurt, because your partner failed you and you became sour in your heart, now is the time to let go.

Let us be quiet for a moment. God created us and gave us authority to dominate.

What is it you believe in?

If you stop thinking negative and start thinking positive you will see the energy growing within you.

Negative thoughts create sourness, sadness and pain.

They block the flow of energy.

That is why you feel depressed and have heavy headaches.

Your shoulders burn, your muscles are tight.

Because oxygen cannot flow freely into your veins!

But feel the difference when you create new and healthy energy.

Think positive; do not play with your health as you only have one life and the second life is in Glory with the Spirit.

But now that you are in the flesh, wake up and enjoy life.

What can be more glorious than a healthy life and the hope to achieve everything you set your mind on?

If you need to talk, please feel free to call me.

…..

 - Papiamento -

Bosa ku tristesa por hasibu malu

Tristesa d

en bo alma,den bo ser

Dolo riba bo pechu

Sibo tin dolor pasombra bo patner a faya kubo,

 Bo a mara amargura nabo kurason

Aawor ta tempu pabo laga los laga bai

Ban para ketu Dios a krea nos i a duna nos

Autoridat pa domina

Kiko ta loke abo ta kere

Sibo stop di pensa negativo i kuminsa pensa positivo

Bota mira e energia kubo ta krea

Negativismo ta krea amargura tristesa dolo

Blokada ku ta stroba energia di pasa

Pesey bota sinti opreshon druk riba bo kabes

Bo skoudernan ta pika, bo spiernan tur ta forma konopi

Pasombra no tin zuurstof ta pasa liber den bo ardunan

Pero wak ora ku bo krea energia nobo i sano

Pensa positivo no hasi wega kubo salu un bes

so bo ta biba

E di dos bida ta den Gloria I ta den spiritu

Pero awor kubo ta den karni lanta gosa dibo bida

Kiko ta gosa ?un bida salu

Ku speransa pa logra tur loke ku bo kurason por desea

Dios bendishona bo i te despues

Si bo ke papia kontakt mi,laga nos hasi orashon huntu

Shammah.ministrie@hotmail.com

Tel: +31 6 43 646 788

Skype: shammah37

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POEMS

BY Henry Chukwuemeka Onyema*

The Osu song*

I am an Osu

therefore I am the earth's rejected;

therefore I am the scorned undergrowth of the forest;

therefore I am the teeth set on edge by sour grapes

I know nothing of, let alone eat.

I am an Osu

therefore I am isolated in the midst of a crowd.

I am an Osu

therefore I can warm a bed but never sleep permanently

in the bedowner' s arms;

therefore I can live in a society but be societyless;

therefore I can love but not be loved;

therefore the holy writs,legislations and exhortations

will not wash off the accursed stain of my pedigree

running a-deep in my veins,

the veins of one set apart from his fellows.

I am an Osu

therefore the new religion and laws are my fortress,

the fortress that withstands the daily siege of the hoary antediluvian past

the battering-rams of tradition;

the cannons of culture;

the muskets of custom;

the war-machines of convention.

Alas, where do I seek protection?

I stand in the midst of my fellows

seeking to be one with a people

who alienate me by the stroke of the gods,

gods they disdain by day and revere by night.

Where do I stand?

Yet in the innermost chambers I rejoice

for every dark night must bow to the azure of the morning,

the morning of the Osu' s liberation.

*Osu (Igbo): a prevalent caste system among the Igbo of Eastern Nigeria.

…..

He wrote a letter

Out of the trenches, out of the foxholes

as the planes delivered their goods of death

as the azure morn turned hellfire-red

as the stoutest hearts became carrion for vultures

and heaven and earth wept in death

he wrote a letter.

Out of the cockpit, out of the seatbelt

as the flying coffin ate up the sky

as the co-pilot pressed the 'Detonate' button

and the deluge of death drowned the damned

he wrote a letter.

Under the flash of the truck's headlights