Forgotten Dairies
I Heard -By Seun Elere
I heard her say to me, we were taken, tortured and cut down in our primes and our abductors and slave masters returned bearing religion to help you forget.
I heard the cry, the whimper, the moan and the whisper across the river banks
I heard her voice, just like a piercing spear fresh from the red hot coal slashing through my thought, say: ‘how can this river ever be clean with the filth that lies underneath.
I heard her say to me: many of us never made it out of here alive.
Even when I could only see the swift movements in the mangroves that surround the riverbank, I heard
Even through the chirping of the birds, I heard
I heard because every wave and ripples share tales of pains, agony and regrets of the young boys and girls whose bones, even after many centuries, are still fresh beneath the river.
I heard her say to me, we were taken, tortured and cut down in our primes and our abductors and slave masters returned bearing religion to help you forget.
I heard her say:
move on from the hurt but keep us in memory
Heal but don’t forget
Pray but also watch
I heard her say, I am free in this land of no return but I worry for you for you live yet in bondage.