History records stories
I’m yet to prove, if it’s all true
That blacks, though rich in cowries
Gave all out to the white crew.
Unwilling, while their services too they gave.
Then I also read
Among all I heard
My continent, very wealthy in gold
Was too poor in everything sold.
We only fought hunger & braved.
Did I see black artifacts in London?
And ebony craft graze their museums
Did the west leave us in fake stardom
And our regime here, only assumes
We’ll return them if we slave?
We trade our brothers & family
In exchange for our resources
Nobody retold the story. Really?
Nor did anyone retell true sources
For which we all slaved.
The world thinks negros are slaves
The register calls, no blacks named
The masters gave their names
We laughed, they thought we felt ashamed
While truly they slaved.
Why look at me with pity
Like you see an image of slavery?
You stare like I’m so dirty
But you’re totally blind to my gallantry.
Least you know, we’re all slaves.
We’re slaves, white, black and coloured
We work, serve, teach, learn, cheat and kill.
With same experiences, we’re empowered
In crime and greed we indulge and steal
We all end up as slaves.
Care for a sincere proof? who craves?
An honest white woman once said
‘Till all men are free, we’re all slaves’
That’s the truth she lived for and paid
Before she laid among the graves.
In exception of life and death
In all the truth history tells with lies
Man, in all his actions breath
When he’s all done, he dies
Only few know they lived as slaves.
*Sokari Hellen Ariniatorudikieke*