Ma'afa, Ma'afa, Ma'afa, Samoya
Poem by Samoya, Year 9
Ladies and Gentlemen think about what that word might mean to my brothers, sisters and me.
You came to our country and stole our land in exchange for the Bible. You forgot God and all feeling of shame. I haven't forgotten god; I live in anticipation that he will free me of this unjustifiable vindictiveness. You call yourselves religious. To be cruel in the name of God. How sinful, scandalous, and sorrowful.
Take as long as you want to think about a world where white people are considered inferior to black people. Oh the revulsions of slavery! - you know all that you do to us, we'd do to you. Don't you feel the pain in your hands after whipping us to death? The thump of the rope against your skin, the resonance of our screams in your ears, the conscience you don't possess. The psychological problems you do possess. The heart that you are missing. If I can feel your pain, then why cant you feel mine?
How would you feel if your daughter was demanded to strip in front of many men. And was instructed to dance while they laughed. And if she refused, they'd rape her or beat her to death. Your 11-year-old daughter was beaten to death, right in front of your eyes. Your 11-year-old child, you'll never hold again. She never knew just how much you loved her.
Not being able to read or write is like cutting your tongue out. Because you can't express yourself. You can never say you feel about the brutality of slavery, being treated like an animal or not seeing your relatives ever again. We are completely alien to everything around us, the language, the food and being flogged.
You see the manifestation of desolation and distress portrayed on our faces everyday. We fall anguished. Put yourself in my shoes and maybe you'll understand the horrors of slavery.
Suffering, sadness and despondency; the infrastructure of slavery. Words can't fully personify our pain.
Ma'afa, Ma'afa, Ma'afa.