Poem by William Terry Obeng, Year 12
I speak to you to tell you about the horrors you tormented us with,
About your vile and vulgar treatment of us.
You whipped us and raped our women like we were toys,
You stole our identities but you did not steal our souls,
We are a nation of Africans in a foreign and barren land,
A land of greed and inhumanity.
But our land, our Mother Africa, the rich land, full of great nations,
The land of the gold, The Lion's head.
This is where we are from and her spirit lives
on in each and every one of us
no matter what you do.
No soul is better than another, no spirit is richer than another.
No fire burns brighter than the other. We are all equals.
We are no different because we are black
Black is beautiful like all other colours
You trapped and enclosed our tongues so we couldn't speak,
Couldn't talk but only hear our muffled cries when you beat us.
You silenced our pain.
Our tears and blood could fill oceans.
The enslaved African brings you food and water...
the water you drink is merely a fraction of the blood you so carelessly