Poetry

Would Heaven Be Kinder?

Dele Farotimi June 3, 2020

Would your heaven be kinder to me. Are we going to have a section for me. I cannot be twice destined for hell. I have already lived as a black man

I am born endangered wherever I turn
It doesn’t matter, where I am born
From the sands of the Sahara
To the shores of the mighty Atlantic

The trees that grows on the rocks
The hardy shrubs of the Sahara
They have better odds than me
I am named after my murderers

I am the African child!
I am the nameless slave!
I am the one that you daily choke!
I am the one you have made hollow!

I worship your gods!
Mine watched as you fettered me
The chief priests traded in men
The chiefs became traders of brothers

When you tired of feeding slaves
You destroyed my holy places
Endangered in your protectorate
Enslaved, exploited, in your colonies

The African gods are unknown
Esu laalu became born again
Reborn as satan and or sheitan
The heresy of Abraham’s seeds

The Allah of Ishmael, Son of Abe
Was called to justify my fetters
The Bible came with the slaving ships
Ajayi Crowther did not Moses become

Today I wander, rootless, void
Emptied of the essence of who I am
Enslaved at home, in chains abroad
Where is my place under the sun

The cousins taken in chains
They are games hunted by men
Trophies to be displayed in proof
Of the inhumanity of man, to man

We that are enslaved at home
Have long preferred the chains abroad
Only the insane have ignored to flee
Death stalks by day, noon, and dusk

The heaven promised to Abe’s boys
Would there be space for me too
Or would the heaven meant for me
Be as desolate as the land of my birth

Would your heaven be kinder to me
Are we going to have a section for me
I cannot be twice destined for hell
I have already lived as a black man

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