Masters came from the East and West,
promising to make my Africa the best.
Through rivers and seas, they came,
leaving no one, them, to blame.
With their ships, canons and guns,
with their hatred which was in tons,
they came with so much honor,
giving us less and less dishonor.
Inside our reeds, they occupied,
considering it a joy and a pride.
Elites entered my family tent,
where the best centuries we spent.
They kidnapped my brother,
and raped my ill mother.
They killed my old dad,
and stole everything we had.
One of them looked at me,
asking me to beg him and knee.
I had no choice, and I did.
I felt like a little dog and a kid.
They called me Negro and black.
Together, they started to attack.
I trembled, bled and cried,
hiding my feelings deep inside.
With his foot, one began to kick.
The other beat me with a stick.
I surrendered, and breathed.
My body, they collected and wreathed.
I was moved to a big ship,
to be ready for the worst trip.
In a metal box, I was put,
with my hands cuffed to my foot.
We reached the other shore.
Hundreds were with me and more.
To a slavery market we were taken.
Like trees in autumn we were shaken.
“You will go to hell.” I was told.
I saw a sign of, “To Be Sold!”
A humble man bought me,
for one, two pounds or three.
Uncuffing me, he sat me free.
I asked why like that he would be.
He said, “We are one, he or she!”
“Freedom, all deserve like thee.”
Mohammed Arafat
09-05-2018
Mohammed Arafat 