DAYS OF THRALDOM

I try to forget and to think not about it

But the images still haunt me

For they are engraved in my head

The images of those atrocious and persistent times

Times of thraldom and struggles for freedom

Oh! Those times!

 

Times when brothers and sisters of my semblance were been molested, traded and being treated thus

Looked down upon, called names and being treated in ways even animals deserved more

Times when my brothers and sisters were burned, hanged, fettered

Even worse, mutilated, branded and imprisoned

Brothers and sisters ladened with grief, with cannibalic treatment given towards them

Repulsive and physical abuse inflicted upon them

Oh! Those times!

 

Times when brothers are being stripped naked and hanged by the wrists and their flesh lay open with the cow skin

Sisters hanged not withstanding their pregnancy and being flogged as hard as their masters could lick till they all are streaming with blood

Times filled with horror that no real African could bear to think of it, for it emotionally spifflicate us deep inside

Oh! Those times!

 

I dare not envisioned when a brother was staked to the ground and his ears cut off, bit, bit by bit

Times when innocent sisters were been robbed of their virtues

Times when brothers and sisters were beaten so severe that injuries were life threatening

Beaten so brutally resulting in psychological effect causing traumatic syndrome

Oh! Those times!