Ray Guns Poem by Babajide Adepoju

Historical memoirs
Told by my mother
Heard by my mother's mother
Experienced by the mother of my mother's mother
With tears dribbling down her wrinkled cheeks

They came in vessels that came through oceans
Putting on caps that looked like perforated calabashes
With cobras tied round their necks
And tight trousers that refused to cover their ankles
Men with color of my palm as complexion

They had long sticks that gave boom sounds
And spit fires that killed in seconds
Compared to our own gift from Ogun
They deceived our credulous leaders
Who sold us for money pouches
They told of their religion which was through and good however
And they desecrated the grooves and shrines of our gods
They deceived us with commerce and civilization
They left us in the midst of clueless rivers
They distributed our women as war booties
And made them minion in their own land
And taught our children accursed languages

We were thrown into sugarcane farms
Our slaves masters laid watch over us through windows
With manacles strapped to our mouths and legs
Some of us were taking to land overseas
To be either concubines or slaves
We witnessed the rising of the sun in our land
But its setting in hell
They took over our lands
Making us tenants in our homeland
'Surely we must survive
Just like reeds do during thunderstorms
Our freedom and that of our children
Lies solely in our hands'they said
Many have told this story
But the aftermath only I know
Of how their struggle and survival
Brought us freedom
Their struggle must never be in vain
We must pick up the pieces and show the world
We are not pushovers! ! !