When the snow souls came through the sea
Our black feet flee towards hideouts.
For a fearful ghost they seem
Their witchy nose seems alienated by our tastes.
They came with reflection our image
Holding our ebony faces in the sea.
The sea our charcoal skin sail on
Getting us entangled to the tentacles of their fingers.
The scorching sun boiled our flesh and
Our hands were held in clutches to the hoe.
We farm our land in forced agony,
The sweat of our harvest was never
Reaped by our deserted tongues.
We were chained,caged and ravished.
Souls turns to goods that traders trade in
Generous trafficking. We work till our feeble flesh
Pour out ocean from the pores of our skin.
Now I’m in badagry again,
I can still hear their silent wailing
In the waves of the sea
It echoes “Save my soul from slavery”.
©Azeezah Olatunde (PenTalks)
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