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I liked to clutch my arms around
Mama and feel the warmth of her body.
I cherished the sound of her soothing voice
And mastered every expression on her face as
She shared tales with us under the tree.
I liked to watch the sunrise with Mama
She promised to teach me how to
Plait my hair and cook lots of food.
I heard whispers about Mama
Being taken away by men with
Strange coloured eyes who shone in the dark.
I waited a long time for Mama
To return from the Door of No Return.
I will tell my children tales under the tree
Just like Mama used to tell me and pray they
They don’t notice my pensive voice unlike Mama’s.
I will teach them how to
plait their hair and cook the way I know how.
I will tell my children stories about Mama
because they will never meet her.
I will watch the sunrise with my children
And hide my tears from them.
This is my story.
What is yours?
This piece was written to capture the perspective of a daughter who lost her mother to the slave trade.
Over The Rainbow is a poetic collection capturing the perspectives of members of the global community over time, stemming from the Atlantic Slave Trade,
