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Slave ship TransAtlantic

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Poem by Dr. Ahmed Gumaa Siddiek

It was an early morning in my village

When left my family in their cottage

And stealthily went, as to be the first

To fetch some fruit, from the forest

My village peacefully slept under the mountain

Enjoying the healthy air and the generous rain

Where my tribe had been living for years

Everything was grown and shared with peers

Our farms were rich with types of grains

And the good sky did never cease to rain

So, our stores were full with types of food

For family and everyone in the neighborhood

We were rich and rich enough

We had beautiful girls to love

Ready to give children, birth after birth

We were the happiest men on earth

Our villages in peace did they remain

With green plains and continuous rains

The tribe wellbeing was maintained

By wise women and bravest men

We had time to love, to wed and time to fight

We had time to sing under the moon’s bright light

And we had time to grow and enjoy the food

And time to converse and dance in the wood

We had the learning to raise the cattle

And plenty of arts and wood to whittle.

We had the time to go to battle

We were able to read and write

As well as able to feed and fight

We know arithmetic and religion, too

We had time to worship the God

In only ONE we believed, not in two

Our elders had time for beautiful tales

To teach the boys and teach the girls

And we had skills to treat all the ails.

We learned to count our cattle and sheep

We knew when our crops were ready to reap

We had the skills to get water from the deep earth

And the knowledge to tell the coming of birth

We knew all about stars in the sky

We knew how to cook and bake the pie

And all about the wealth in the ground

And how to decipher the echo of the sound

So when we beat our drums during the night

That was to make ready for a fight

And when we beat our drums during the day

That was to celebrate a wedding day

We alert with the smoke signs our kin

So we would never be taken by sudden

It was to tell the advance of some enemies

And be ready for the fighting ceremonies

So we had a culture when you came to our land

And took our races chained hand in hand

To plant cotton and sugar on your sand

Millions of black fellows had long to stand

Under the burning sun, they were to remand

When your white ships anchored at our coast

Everything was gone and we were lost

With your guns you hunted men and boast

And displaced my race to pay the heaviest cost

That was one early morning and that was my last day

When I last saw the green plains where I used to play

In a slave ship across the Atlantic I made my way

To the new world with historical dismay

Where we were displaced, enslaved and forced to stay

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