They called us barbaric ……..these pale humans drenched in
sweat.
Stepping on our land, swathing in their desire for conquest.
They came in their ships, pulsating with intrinsic self-righteousness
from their Monarch.
They offered gifts,
wrapped cunningly with chains, destroying our shrine, delivering us from our
gods.
Their lips filled with sweet honey mocked our native tongue, they
would offer us salvation that we never knew we needed.
Slightly above apes was how they described us to their
monarchs back home.
Disdainfully writing off our culture, several centuries
passed down through generations.
until it gradually reduced to cannibalistic allegory, we were a
species close to cave men in need of reforming.
Our songs of victory, a signal of our strength…our warrior’s
opium the heartbeat of our kingdom.
Were reduced to pagan symbols, uncharacteristic bursts of
devil worship they called it.
They would give us a new tongue, give us a new name, and
give us a new God …..Make us civilized.
Uncivilized was the label they gave us, with our animal skin
garments and our thatched huts.
Their Land was better, their language superior, their
religion the only true religion.
Yet they sought after our women, their dark skin which shone
with oil from palm trees was all they desired.
Yet they sought after our Land, the treasures that lay
beneath was all they desired.
Yet they sought after our pagan symbols, the art crafts hand
woven in worship was all they desired.
Yet they sought after the strength of our young men, the efficacy
of our manual labor was all they desired.
They called us barbaric …………..these pale humans drenched in
sweat.
But our culture passed down from generation to generation
never prepared us for what they did next.
Chained……slaughtered……enslaved……..raped……murdered……carted
off our land like animals.
For years and years until their lands were made fat with our fruits.
The seas unripened with the smell of our corpses.
Their Farmlands bounteous with the sweat of our young men.
My Old brain fails me my child but I remember in phrases the words they forced
us to learn.
The unmistakable picture these acts paints,
Not our songs, not our culture , not our children obedient to their elders, It was not us all along.
You do know without my speech, who were the real
barbarians my child ?
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