Slave Routes

SLAVE ROUTES
Slaves Routes, a road of tears,
Where freedom was lost, and hopes disappeared.
But their memories live on, in each and every one,
Reminding us to fight, until justice is done.

Tears flow down, like a river of pain,
As I think of the journeys, of those in chains.
Slaves Routes, a road of sorrow,
Where freedom was taken, and futures borrow.

Tears flow down, like a river of pain,
As I think of their journeys, and all that they gained.
A legacy of strength, and a will to survive,
Inspiring us all, to keep their spirit alive.

The Plight of Slaves Routes, a story untold,
Of a journey that took, the young and the old.
From Africa they came, to a land so strange,
Their lives forever changed, in a journey of pain.

In shackles and chains, they walked in line,
Their spirits broken; their futures confined.
Along these routes, they faced the unknown,
A life of servitude, a future overthrown.

In shackles and chains, they walked with a heavy heart,
Leaving behind all that they knew, a brand-new start.
A life of servitude, in a land so strange,
Where freedom was taken, and dignity would change.

Their homes and families, left behind,
Forced to leave, all that they did find.
Along these routes, they walked in fear,
Wondering if they’d ever see home, a tear.

In the scorching heat, and the pouring rain,
They marched on, in endless pain.
Their bodies weary, their hearts broken apart,
Wishing for freedom, a beating heart and brighter year.

Slaves Routes, a journey of still courageous compatriots,
Heros and heroines, forced to leave their homes, so freeing
Taken away in shackles and chains,
Their lives forever changed, in such pains.

From Africa they came, to a land so strange,
A life of servitude, they were to arrange.
Their dignity taken, their rights stripped away,
Forced to work, from dawn till dusk, every day.

Pity the poor Africans, who lost so much more,
Than just their homes and families, they lost what was pure.
Their culture and heritage, stripped away,
Leaving them with only memories, that would forever stay.

Their homes and families, left behind,
Their cultures and traditions, stripped away, combined.
A life of hard work, from dawn till dusk,
Their dignity taken; their rights lost.

In the darkness of night, they whispered prayers,
Hoping for a brighter tomorrow, and freedom to share.
But their hopes were shattered, as they reached their end,
Sold as property, their lives forever bend.

Pity the poor Africans, who suffered so much pain,
Forced to leave their homes, their families, in vain.
Along the Slaves Routes, their spirits did bend,
As their lives were forever changed, in a journey that would end.

But despite their struggles, they found hope,
In each other’s strength and love to cope.
They sang songs of freedom, and whispered prayers,
That one day they’d be free, without any fears.

The Ugliness of Slaves Routes, a tale of woe,
Where people were treated, as property to show.
From Africa they came, their journey untold,
Their futures stolen; their dignity sold.

In Africa they landed, a land so rich,
But for the slaves, their lives were in a glitch.
Forced to work in mines, or build great pyramids,
Their bodies battered; their spirits spiritless.

The ugliness of slavery, a stain on the land,
Where human beings were treated, as mere tools in hand.
Their lives were worth nothing, their value untold,
Their freedoms stripped away; their spirits sold.

But despite their struggles, their spirits never died,
They held on to hope, and never said goodbye.
And so, they marched on, with a strength so bright,
Inspiring us all, to continue the fight.

Today, these routes remind us of the past,
A reminder of the atrocities that did last.
And though their journey may have come to an end,
Their legacy lives on, as a reminder to defend.

Today, the Plight of Slaves Routes, lives on,
A reminder of the past, and what has gone.
Let us remember their struggles, and honor their lives,
As we strive for justice, and freedom that thrives.

Their legacy lives on, reminding us of the past, a life that’s mended.
Let us remember their struggles, and fight for their rights,
Needless with guns and matchets,
But needful of the power of reason and negritude.

As the slave routes remind us of the past,
I do not need any consolation.
I need no one to pity me,
What I need and it in me now is resilience.

Resilience to assert the dignity in me,
Resilience to appreciate my beautiful black skin.
The black skin that reminds me of the cradle of humanity,
The black skin that reminds me of my great African mind.

It is the mind of reason,
It is the mind of knowledge.
It is the mind of power,
Therefore, am not a slave, am a power, am a victor.

Though I once walked the routes of slavery,
Now, I have asserted my negritude.
Now I can stand on the apex of the mountain top and shout,
I am Black, I am Africa and I am free.

Anthony Emeka OKONKWO (Nigeria)