Once Upon a People

A long time ago, in my early journey into African spirituality, the ancestors of this land invited me to see them and appreciate them as people.  Country, ethnicity, community, family, individuality, men, woman, young boys, young girls, children, were all variables in the powerful equation of their lives.  Human beings, just like you, human beings just like me, spirit beings just like me, spirit beings just like you, performing a phase of eternal life on a place called earth on a spot called Jamaica.  People with mind, body, spirit. With consciousness, emotions, intelligence and even free will.  PEOPLE.  The invitation opened a door for me to peep through. You will forgive me if I do not take big steps into a house that used to be pristine, where there was, once upon a time, much joyful living and loving in ceremony and harmony.  A house that, for some time now, in our civilized existence, retains little that is joyful, where in moving from immaculate to corrupt holds much, so much, too much that is excruciatingly painful.  In this house still lives their prayers, their lamentations, their calling out to God, their tears for themselves and their loved ones, their deep desires for home.  Their thoughts of escape, murder, defiance, their collaborations, betrayals, their hate.  Their questioning of God and their existence……the house is their mind, body, spirit. The house is my mind, body, spirit.  A sharing of memories.

Dear God was it you

The God of my own ancestors

The only one God, the all powerful

Who told the white ones to make me 

Your child, their slaves

Dear God was it really you

The God of my own black ancestors

The only one God, the one who knows all

Who told them to enslave, enchain, enshackle

Endanger, enfeeble, enthrall, enbond me

Your child, their spectacle

Dear God was it unequivocally you

The God of my very own mothers and fathers

The only one God, creator of us all

Who told the white skinned, white hearted, white minded

To co-create me out out of my divinity, declare mutually exclusive 

our image and likeness, evolve me as a nothingness

Your child, their …………

One God

And yet you ask me to believe Dear God

That there is only one……GOD

So the one who signed the papal bull 

Is he yours too, my brother, all of us your children

And still you ask me to believe Dear God

That there is only one…… GOD

So the ones who captured me tore me from my people

Are they yours too, my brothers, all of us your children

And yet still you ask me to believe Dear God

That there is only one……GOD

So those who prayed to you, them raped me

Are they yours too, my brothers, all of us your children

And still yet you ask me to believe Dear God

That there is only one……GOD

So those who sprinkled holy water, them branded me

Are they yours too, my brothers, all of us your children 

And yet, yet still you ask me to believe Dear God

That there is only one……GOD

So those who hate me, mutilate me, dismember me, 

Are they yours too, my brothers, all of us your children 

And still, still yet you ask me to believe Dear God

That there is only one……GOD

So those who reign terror upon us, dehumanize, dominate 

Are they yours too, my brothers, all of us your children 

My ancestors, in their time on earth, were unquestionably of flesh and blood. They had the capacity to reason and rationalize, question, conclude and generally think.  They knew and accepted there was a force greater than selves and even had creation stories.  They believed in a Supreme being as the source of all that is created.  Surprisingly they could feel and even had feelings, they could smell, taste, see, touch.  They were articulate and had the capacity to assess their situation.  They knew right from wrong and even in their silence and through the atrocities and abuse they lived and they died.  I peeped through the door of their humanity and heard, felt them as people, with emotions.  

So is only when me fight back 

After you grab me and mi young pickney

Isolate wi from wi community

Teck wi far far from mi yard 

Do all kinds of ungodly things to me

Dat yu cry foul and declare illegality

Is only when me call pon God

Complain to him how you rape mi 

A decent married woman,  

Sodomize the man dem 

Mi bredda dem, mi son dem, wi fada dem

Dat yu cry foul and write yu law

Is when mi done tell God say

Me a go kill you rass

As soon as mi done bleed

From the third miscarriage from yu owna whip 

Wey yu beat mi fi nutten, nutten at all

Dat is when yu cry foul an pass yu law

Is when me mash down nearly kill miself…an yu to

Afta yu sell mi one remaining gal pickney

An di backra massa yu sell har to

Very ungently open har legs fi penetrate har tenderness

Mi one so so gal pickney

Dat yu cry foul yet me caan even plead motherhood

Through that door, in that house, the dwelling place of mind, body spirit, still remains the call for justice.  Those our peoples, who walked this place before us, knew God as the giver of justice.  But what had gone awry?  Was there no space on the ship for Nyame, Asasse Yaa, Adade? For Amadioha, Ani, Ikenga?  Will Atabey, Yúcahu Bagua Maórocoti and Guacar have to fight this one alone?  British made and enacted laws, integral to the maintenance of the system of enslavement, remain in present day, as part of the legal system in not yet fully liberated British colonies like Jamaica.  If a man came into your house, kidnapped you, raped and mutilated you, would you let his shoes stay in your house under your bed long after he departed? Would it, even if no one wears it, be a constant reminder of and testimony to his presence and all that that entailed?  

So Backra mek wi reason a while

Bout this law wey yu just pass

Mek wi start wid the general 

Before we move to the specific

So generally mi backra massa

You live in a big house

So big dem call it great

Backra yu si an know wey mi live 

Generally backra massa 

Yu and backra missy

Eat high on the hog, the best of everything

Backra yu si and know wey mi eat

Very generally speaking backra

Yu know how much heap a money yu have

Money yu all sen back home ina big bank account

While mi, who wuk for it, no get none a di wealth

So generally, very generally backra massa

Yu no think sey while your ass sheltered, yu belly full

An yu a count yu money wid glee

Dat mi have di right fi talk to God in what ever language I know

Bout redistribution of wealth an poverty alleviation

Now moving to the specific backra massa

Mi sidung a mi yard a do mi owna thing

Part of a big beautiful continent name Africa

Yu kidnap me and traffic me

Tek mi to one place yu tief from some people

Yu put me fi wuk…not a problem 

But wey di pay

Pon top a dat, if anything can go pon top a dat

Di working conditions dem backra 

From dawn til dusk, from pickney to the oldest

Every last one, babe pon breast, inna de field

A one caan tek a five, drink a likkle water in peace

Lest him back be rendered into pieces

So specifically backra massa is whole heap a things

But mek mi ask yu is what wid yu an di fire an di heat

Yu bran wi wid hot iron, 

Put mi fi sidung or stan up an light big fire a mi foot 

Yu scald mi wid hot water, pour it all ova mi

Den yu bun mi skin wid di red hot coal 

Put it between mi toe dem 

Is which God you worship backra…specifically

So back to the law wey yu pass backra

Yu mus be unda di distinct impression 

That is me crucify your Baby Jesus

But memba is a long long long time dat

An if yu falla wey him teach yu sey 

When him turn big man 

Yu woulda figive me by now

So how now backra you woulda expect

Fi come a my yard, drag mi to your yard

An truth be told a no even your yard yu carry me

Fi teach me, who been living upright and just

Same way mi God and mi ancestors teach mi

While you a use yu demon of fire, heat an others

Bout Attabey, Onyame, Chineke, Olodumare

Yu really think backra massa dat mi a real idiot

Fi sidung and me wey know God before you 

Yu generation dem an odda neva si come si

Would not apprise Great Spirit by all the names 

My ancestors taught me, of mi condition and situation

Tell him bout the ‘babylon’ we find we self inna

And respectfully ask for something to be done about it

An if you did call him and him answer

Yu get him wi tell yu how to protect you from me

Why you woulda think say when we call him

Him na go answer and tell we how fi protect we from yu

Is wey yu fraid fa, the ancient wisdom that was unleashed

Or the powerfulness of it all, wid all your fake knowledge

Yu clearly neva know say the same knife wey stick sheep……

Mir Hanna mi aware of di charge

Yes mi know mi charge fi pretending to practice Obeah

De problem is Mir Hanna mi was not pretending

An mi worse yet was not practicing

No Sireee Mir Hanna

Mi was neva one for pretending

Afterall pretend is a kind of lie telling

An pretending to practice Mir Hannna

Need bigga brains dan fi mi fi understand

Mir Hanna sar yu say mi mus prove to you

Dat me not doing, practicing to do, or pretending to do

The something you call obeah 

But Mir Hanna wey mi did fi get money from fi hire lawyer

An even if mi did ha di money wey di lawyer de

An even if di lawyer dede wey di law fi di lawyer use fi defen mi

So yu see Mir Hanna it come right back to you

A yu draw first blood, fus fus fus everything an everytime

Fus fi tief the nedda people dem land

Fus fi tun dem inna slave

Fus fi tief fi mi people from fi wi land

Fus fi tief fi wi land to

Fus fi traffic wi an land wi pon stolen foreign property

Mir Hanna yu draw fus blood when you was di

Fus fi beat wi like yu waan teck life and you did 

Fus fi inflict wounds pon mi body mind an spirit

Fus fi force we fi stop call and worship God 

Fus fi bore hole through we lip 

Mir Hanna, yu no pass no law fi stop dat

You need a lawyer Mir Hanna not to prove yu innocence 

But fi beg God fi no meck fi yu sentence last fi all of eternity

In accepting the invitation to see them as people,  I heard them crying, weeping, bawling.  I realized that there were more reasons to wail than there were teardrops to shed.  Deep, deep somewhere in my chi I experience the lived reality of utter despair in the moments when we asked…Could God not see or hear us? Was God not present during our abuse and degradation?  Had he turned his head away to vomit? 

So when you cut off mi finger, di las one wey lef

fi him han, an the nedda one foot, mutilate wi

No law no dey gainst dem dey, dat no illegal right

Wrong, God law dey gainst it

When you rape Afia yes, you call her Mary

But is Afia her God and her ancestors know her as

When she couldn’t stop bleeding 

Yu no have no law wey meck dat illegal

So here comes ‘Dum Diversas‘ again

Moving through our various menfolk

Buck breaking our fathers, brothers, sons

Yu no have no law wey fi meck dat illegal

So massa yu no si sey working fi yu is a disease

How else you woulda explain how all a wi 

Wey wuk pon di plantation suffer from the very same ailments

An not to mention the complications arising from dem

backra some a wi stronger than others 

So some a wi suffer and live and some suffer and die

Yu beat wi backra strip di flesh off wi back

An not even likkle disinfectant, yu prefer use it pon yu horse

When yu no give wi enough food backra

Wii get malnourished and caan work well

Your solution backra is more flogging and raping

Not even likke more crumbs from yu table

An when di disease or diseases backra

Caused by di poor lifestyle yu impose pon wi

Along wid all manner of adverse personhood experiences

Get so bad wi haffi find we ona cure yu tum round an demonize wi

I work on a big sugar plantation

Yes di one wid di pretty backra missy

An di backra massa dat sex the two of we

Yes, we get plenty incentives and benefits

You see when dem kill one hog

All the meaty parts and so 

Go straight up to the big house

But we get all the offals, feet and other parts

And yu si when christmas come

Yu know is 365 days inna di year

We may get the benefit of all of 4 days off

An if yu no mind sharp we even get a likke meat 

And through it all

You did not expect 

That a people who 

Were never primitive                                    ……because it was convenient for you to think so

Were not without souls                                  ……at your declaration

Did not become cargo                                    ……at your decree

Did not become lesser than                            ……so you could become evilly more than 

Were keepers of ancient wisdom

First walked the earth                                    ……bred your watered down discoloured ancestors

Builders of the Pyramids                                ……about which you are still guessing

Had knowledge systems and technologies……of which your ignorance knew no bounds

Would hold strong to

Their spirituality and true way of life        ……taught to them by their ancestors

Their all-encompassing belief systems      ……which had served them for thousands of years

Their knowledge of justice and fair play    ……un-seeable through your lenses of ‘coloniality’

Being mothers and fathers of medicine     ……misused by your inhumanity

Astronomy, Science, Music, Philosophy      ……dared with you brutality

Would not rise up and slap you down        ……as your ancestors should have done

What were our black and perhaps not so black

Ancestors doing to provoke the wrath

Of your white and perhaps not so white ancestors

Did my black God not find favour with your white God

Did the white become moot as the black took root

We are writing our own book to tell the stories of our own incredibly strong, resilient, God worshiping, ancestor venerating, technologically, scientifically, artistically and all other ‘cally’ brilliant, fore fathers and fore mothers, men and women, fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, cousins, all in commUnity.  We are letting it be known that we are following the ancient wisdom that dictates that we honour the God of ancestors, that we do not forget or reject their teachings and that we keep connected and interconnected knowing that there is only one God.  

Obeah was not our question

It was our answer

To the complex question

Of who gave you the right

Who gave you the permission

To dehumanize and demonize

To desecrate and dominate

To displace and degrade

To deny me the basic human rights 

Invite a destruction that led to despair

Obeah was not our question

It was my ancient ancestral medicine

It was my ancestrally informed response

Here ye here ye hear ye 

Let it be known from now till always

That it was not the Taíno not the Akan

The Igbo, Yoruba or the Edo

Coromantee, Mandingo, Hausa,

Fulani, Ewe, Fanti, Ashanti, Ibibio

Kongo, Wolof, Mende, Temne Zulu

Who killed your Christ