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Posted: Monday February 27th, 2006 13:02 |
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| I WAS WORKIN IN THE FIELDS ON A HOT DAY AND I HEARD ALOT OF SCREAMING AND YELLING. IT SOUNDED LIKE THEY WERE SAYIN WE ARE FREE--WE ARE FREE---- WE ARE FREE --. SO I CLIMED IN A TREE SO I COULD SEE IF THE MASTER AND THE GOOD OLD HOUSE "BROTHERS" WERE GETTING THE WHIPS READY ,BUT THE MASTER WAS SITTING THERE DRINKIN HIS LEMON AID. ALL THE BROTHERS STARTED GRABING THERE BUNDLES OF THINGS AND THERE CHILDREN. SO I GOT MY STUFF AND MEET AT THE MASTERS HOUSE .IT WAS ABOUT 50 OF US BUT THE MASTER STILL WAS SMILLING. THEN IT HIT ME WHY THE MASTER WAS SMILEING EVEN THOUGH WE ARE FREE
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Posted: Monday February 27th, 2006 13:04 |
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| Again I Was In The Fields. I Think It Was June 4th 1865.a White Man With A Well Dressed brother By His Side. With Blue Hats On Like The Yankees .wore Came Up To Us And Said You Negros Are Free. I Knew It Was True This Time Cause The Master Had His Shotgun In His Hand. The Bad Part Was That The Trustys (uncle Toms,good Ole House Negraz) Were Standing There With Master Gun In Hand
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Posted: Monday February 27th, 2006 13:04 |
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| double post Last edited on Monday February 27th, 2006 13:06 by
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Posted: Monday February 27th, 2006 13:05 |
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| How am I supposed to get outta here? Its freezing here, most of the water outside is frozen solid. I got this one pair of shoes and the soles are pretty much gone. How can I make it past Atlanta, through Tennessee and Kentucky to Ohio then to Canada? Or I could try to go through the Carolinas and Virginia and make it up to New York. West is nothing but thousands of miles of slave country and East is water. Im gonna try in the Summer. If I can't work up the courage Im just gonna take that axe by the firewood and kill that source of my misery while He and his family sleep.
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Posted: Monday February 27th, 2006 13:07 |
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And then ,Ima stay in ole dead massa's house until I get myself healthy
Then, Ima go next doe at midnight and recruit some mo people. People
that wants ta get free too. Then we's attack ole massa Thomas and his
house ngroes in da mornin and take over his plantation. he gots the
biggest wagons and the strongest horses in da county and we will need
them to reach Canada before the winter
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MarcusGarveyLives
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Posted: Wednesday March 15th, 2006 21:23 |
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| You might find something to think about here: http://www.bnvillage.co.uk/forum35/20468.html
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Breadfruit
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Posted: Wednesday March 22nd, 2006 20:29 |
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There was an African, called Ben. He always sat in the fields after work - never said a word to anyone unless asked; he just worked and then gazed, aimlessly.
"Ben, we're free" I said, sitting down by his side. "Yea! you're free" he said, coldly. "My names not Ben, its Ikuseghan and there can never be freedom in a land controlled by the whiteman, never" the African said.
"What’s wrong with you man?" "Lets get out of this place, head north, its a new day brother its time to move on, forget that African sh*t, we need to build a new life here, in America," I said, trying to encourage the African, spur him to the necessary military action.
"Brother," the African said "you were born in this hell, your grandparents came from my nation, my people; the same place I was born. I was kidnapped and chained; brought to America when I was 7 years old. Me and my beautiful mother.
My master made me beat her to death when I was 10, because she took some bread from his bins, to feed me.
Death upon death, has turned our peoples into animals, grateful for the gift of life, from massa - is this what you want me to runaway to? Brother, you and your slave made mind see this land America and your place in it as normal, natural, for indeed it now is.
The whiteman is now set to bring their ways to Africa, what will become of her - can you imagine what the future holds for our lands?
I have seen how these people kill and destroy everything in the name of what they want; how for them nothing is sacred. This is a land I will never ever call home, so go on without me. Africans like me will only speak and be killed by Africans lost, angry and full of hate; a hate that they have no idea of its origin, for we have been taught to forget and be like dumb animals."
"OK African, stay here" I said, wondering why he was so different from the rest of us. "We have to think positive and try regardless of the odds against us - that’s our African Spirit" I said, leaving him, gazing at the sky, aimlessly.
The guys a loser, I concluded.
I'm attacking the house tonight..........................
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History is a people's memory, and without a memory, man is demoted to the lower animals
Malcolm X (1925 - 1965)
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Rebel Lion 06
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Posted: Wednesday March 22nd, 2006 20:53 |
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| Can't stomach stories like those sometimes, gets my blood boiling... kinda like getting comfy to watch Roots. No go for me.
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Toyin
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Posted: Wednesday March 22nd, 2006 22:35 |
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plantation
you’re free to choose they told him.
said the voices wielding power,
and for those seven and half hours,
he daily contributed to,
that power…
as they took, instead of sharing
laughing as he parted with his cash.
robbed, with ingenuity,
through the many guises they called tax.
contributing to a nation,
to which he had no relation.
no recognition,
yet cultural submission
a pre requisite for his employ?
an assimilation tool to deploy?
deploy?
employ?
a ploy,
to show his birth had worth,
a valued member of society
yet….
not quite like his masters
diety.
yet today his eyes opened,
as he realised the truth,
his head, had been dead,
wed and fed, by the money that owned him,
and not… as he thought, he owed.
but now, he had been told
would he be bold, or remain sold
would he stand up,
or shut up,
would he put up,
or sell up
could the price on his freedom,
be paid for by his..
his..
his..
his..
his..
it’s difficult isn’t it?
for a moment he was alive,
running free to his dreams,
but now, now,
lunch time
is over.
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Rebel Lion 06
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Posted: Thursday March 23rd, 2006 19:05 |
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I was so proud that our brothers from the future had the bravery to invent a time machine for the sole purpose of saving us, their ancestors, from the misery surrounding our freedom. We had found a place safe from the taunts and angry klansmen and had set up camp for the night when they came. They said that they came to bring us what they called, ''reparations'', something they always said with a smile as though it was something we need not worry about. As they each opened the wooden boxes to give us these new weapons, they shared with us stories of trials and further wrong doings at the hands of our masters who wished to keep us enslaved even though we were free. They said that they would have gone back further in time to when we were first taken from our motherland but that it was best that we took this land as payment for our troubles, hopefully we could help our Native American brothers as well... this was the ''reparations'' they spoke of, I could see that smile returning, a good smile that smile...
I'm liking this now.
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Breadfruit
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Posted: Friday March 24th, 2006 20:36 |
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Then I awoke. The newspaper, dated May 1918 reminded me that I was many years away from my youth.
A small section of the publication told the story of the Hayes family. It read:
...........a white plantation owner in Brooks County, Georgia, got into a quarrel with one of his colored tenants and the tenant killed him. A mob sought to avenge his death but could not find the suspected man. They therefore lynched another colored man named Hayes Turner.
His wife, Mary Turner, threatened to have members of the mob arrested. The mob therefore started after her. She fled from home and was found there the next morning. She was in the eighth month of pregnancy but the mob of several hundred took her to a small stream, tied her ankles together and hung her on a tree head downwards.
Gasoline was thrown on her clothes and she was set on fire. One of the members of the mob took a knife and split her abdomen open so that the unborn child fell from her womb to the ground and the child's head was crushed under the heel of another member of the mob; Mary Turner's body was finally riddled with bullets.
http://www.binghamton.edu/womhist/lynch/doc7.htm
"That quiet African was right, wasn't he? All those years ago. He time travelled, into this hell. These people will never give us our freedom. We will have to take it, as right, as birthright.
Not as people born slave or as freed slaves but as Africans, kidnapped and brought to this new land. Human beings with a history and a future which nothing can deny.
That African should have ran with me." I say defiantly, to myself.
I look through the penitentiary windows, my aged hands, grab the bars. As I try and release my grip, ice binds my fingers to the metal and I smile.
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History is a people's memory, and without a memory, man is demoted to the lower animals
Malcolm X (1925 - 1965)
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LadyDay
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Posted: Saturday March 25th, 2006 19:46 |
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good thread
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Think outside of the box...Think in spirit
Act as if it were impossible to fail!!!
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Lady Aleisha
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Posted: Tuesday March 28th, 2006 18:29 |
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| my fathers name was yakuu babatuni, but they whipped my father and said his name was now yakubu JONES.jones is your name N****r he shouted, as we were given the slave masters name.
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Apedemak
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Posted: Wednesday May 17th, 2006 17:28 |
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The first to fall at the hands of our new weapons was a negro man in an all blue uniform. He said he was a messenger and spoke of a war between North and South that would aid in our freedom from the hands of the vicious and barbaric southern clansmen. It was one of our children (as we called them) from the future that shot him. He did it as though it was nothing, simply walked upto him, pressed the shiny weapon into his chest and fired, he fell to the floor in a humph, his partner running off into the shrubery like a hyena would. This child from the future was annoyed, something he called ''vexed''... there was an arguement between him and a few others, waving their hands at him and pointing angrily, then calming down, holding their heads in their hands and leaning on trees. I approached them for the first time since their visit.
''Why did you shoot him?'' I asked, he ignored me at first, not making eye contact digging his weapon into the ground. An odd pause ensued. ''Man! I'm not on that s*it!'' he exclaimed. ''those house negros got us running around for years man, theres no way I was gonna miss my chance at shooting one and not getting locked up for it''... he knew he was wrong I could tell in his voice, he was shaking, prehaps feeling the dissapointment his brothers felt towards him.
''F*ck this man, I'm taking out all f**kers who arent with our click, its simple and plain, our plan is to TAKE our sh*t and not TAKE sh*t, right!?... aint no one gonna miss him anyway, man was ugly like I aint never seen ugly''
He had struck fear into our people, our numbers were on the up and this was the type of thing that made many feel to go it alone, making peace with the white people as they came across them. I left their company to comfort my wife.
Soon we all had these weapons and many other bits and peices. Thick jumper like vests that were tough and hard, strong leather boots with metal toe caps, flags in Black Red and Green with a star in the center. Knives of all shapes and sizes and round things with metal clips at the top... training would begin the next day. We were told to become accustomed to our new weapons and tools of various kinds and leaders were chosen.
I was one of those leaders.
Thought this forum was gone for some reason, been using my email to get around and didnt notice it or something... gotta stop with the weed for a bit and get my mind right.
Peace
RL
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Incognito
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Posted: Wednesday May 17th, 2006 17:57 |
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Free, free finally free, in the name of liberty I've got to sex a whitey!!
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Apedemak
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Posted: Wednesday May 17th, 2006 20:49 |
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Free, free finally free, in the name of liberty I've got to sex a whitey!!
He said, throwing down his cotton basket and fixing his tie, he had slept with the plantation owners' wife several times while singing to method man,
''Watch this slave N****r get, all up in yo' guts''
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Shemsi en Tehuti
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Posted: Tuesday May 23rd, 2006 20:28 |
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| Not sure I like where this is going...
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Apedemak
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Posted: Wednesday May 24th, 2006 19:13 |
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Add to it man... hope its not offending you or something.
Gonna keep adding to it when I've got the time....Think I'm skipping eras though, went too far ahead and into the civil war without going into enough detail about the freed slaves and stuff.
Don't wanna piss anyone off though.
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Apedemak
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Posted: Tuesday May 30th, 2006 20:35 |
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-eddit-
Bit rude me messing up the thread like that.
Last edited on Wednesday May 31st, 2006 21:20 by Apedemak
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stick-upKid
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Posted: Monday August 7th, 2006 21:53 |
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The foreigners came yesterday.
They arrived shackled to each-other by their ankles. Brother hadus spat at one man as he shuffled past. Hadus is a mean brother, he tells massa where we hide the liquor that we steal, and he had me flogged fifty lashes for the trouble.
But this time I agree with Hadus. The new arrivals, though through no fault of their own will surely make our plight worse. While this wretched trade in human cargo and misery continues massa will treat us so very badly, we are worthless because when we die there will always be new arrivals.
The new ones are not welcome. We have forced them to sleep next to the pigs quarters. There is room for a few of them in our stables with the horses, but Hadus believes these new negroes must get used to life in this land quickly.
Sometimes I catch myself feeling pity for the new ones for they have known freedom. They have once roamed the motherland as free as wild mongoose. I being born of this land have only dreamt of the Africa, and learnt a few bits from the hushed tones of my mother. This new reality must surely wreak tremendous damage within their souls. I see them, despondent at the labour they are forced to endure, they are whipped inccessantly. Massa has little patience for them and I hear him curse them saying that they must be bred quickly so that young ones can be born, who know no better, just like me.
Yours truly, Eli the slave christian.
North Carolina
Confederate States of America
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They want you to Forgive Injustice.
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Posted: Tuesday August 8th, 2006 02:10 |
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| I dream of freedom - free to earn a wage, own a house and a car yet I toil here and I ponder. Put a man in prison long enough and he's better off spending the rest of his life there than be released into the real world because it's too late for him to adjust. I look around me and ask given freedom, as a people, what would we do with it ....is it too late to adjust.... Last edited on Tuesday August 8th, 2006 02:39 by Incognito
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soulunique
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Posted: Tuesday August 8th, 2006 13:42 |
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im walking around during the day and night, a plastered smile upon my face but sorrow in my heart for they tell me im free, they tell me that they've allowed me to be free but my mind tells me otherwise. i have this feeling that i am still a slave. a slave at heart and a slave at mind.
im confused i can no longer undestand my own thoughts... do i own my own thoughts?
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Constant Quality
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Posted: Wednesday August 9th, 2006 19:07 |
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 Breadfruit wrote: There was an African, called Ben. He always sat in the fields after work - never said a word to anyone unless asked; he just worked and then gazed, aimlessly.
"Ben, we're free" I said, sitting down by his side. "Yea! you're free" he said, coldly. "My names not Ben, its Ikuseghan and there can never be freedom in a land controlled by the whiteman, never" the African said.
"What’s wrong with you man?" "Lets get out of this place, head north, its a new day brother its time to move on, forget that African sh*t, we need to build a new life here, in America," I said, trying to encourage the African, spur him to the necessary military action.
"Brother," the African said "you were born in this hell, your grandparents came from my nation, my people; the same place I was born. I was kidnapped and chained; brought to America when I was 7 years old. Me and my beautiful mother.
My master made me beat her to death when I was 10, because she took some bread from his bins, to feed me.
Death upon death, has turned our peoples into animals, grateful for the gift of life, from massa - is this what you want me to runaway to? Brother, you and your slave made mind see this land America and your place in it as normal, natural, for indeed it now is.
The whiteman is now set to bring their ways to Africa, what will become of her - can you imagine what the future holds for our lands?
I have seen how these people kill and destroy everything in the name of what they want; how for them nothing is sacred. This is a land I will never ever call home, so go on without me. Africans like me will only speak and be killed by Africans lost, angry and full of hate; a hate that they have no idea of its origin, for we have been taught to forget and be like dumb animals."
"OK African, stay here" I said, wondering why he was so different from the rest of us. "We have to think positive and try regardless of the odds against us - that’s our African Spirit" I said, leaving him, gazing at the sky,  ...
The guys a loser, I concluded.
I'm attacking the house tonight..........................
more more....grabs popcorn
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