It Was Somewhere In Africa

IT WAS SOMEWHERE IN AFRICA
It was a mix feeling of sadness and confusion
The greedy white man dug and scavenged the inocent minds

Of our strong men and women .
The marks of chains and blood all over their black bodies

O ye our forefathers you that fight with your bare hands, taking the flesh from the mouth of the hungry lion ,where are u?

SOMEWHERE IN AFRICA
That men were men and women were women
A strong bond of unity that existed like the mahagony tree ,has been cut down.

Lives were lost, blood was shed and the backs of men endured the pain of the Cain

They came as inocent but they left with the mark of killers

At night fear grip the heart of women in their mats ,the ground shook ,the trees danced, the birds send messages whiles the mountains and valleys bow down to their wickedness .

IT WAS SOMEWHERE IN AFRICA
The land was a promise land but never entered ,
They came disguised mask of education and took away our rich culture . Oh Ye mother Africa the green vegetation turn to yellow,the fertile soil is now left with poor barren lands .

Why this wickedness dear white man?
You drink and belch down your stomachs while Cains are soaked in water to whip the bare backs of the black man .

That the blacks lost their minerals to the white man in return for cheap salt and sugar

They came with guns and weapons but black man had only the bow and arrow for protection.

I remembered Imoro and Babatu ,they raid slaves from the north, carrying guns chains and whipping the backs of the black men as they are passed through the gate of no return .

IT WAS SOMEWHERE IN AFRICA
That the men in black were enslaved in fearful attacks , gun forward, gun backwards moving north ,east ,south and west .My heart jumb a beat as I sat down watching that night , little children holding guns firing guns and killing people like fowls ,

Oh those fearful nights ,that a man in black could not get a place to rest his head but only experience a torture of gun bullets raining down the roofing,

Where can the black man hide? ,
Where can the black man seek refuge ?
There is hope for a tree that has been cut down ,
Darius Kondi
( A young poet)
Supported by Denis Andaban

Author: Darius Kondi

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