Silence is Abuse

So often we hear about the past and what it means or what it should mean. The past is merely a flickering light in a dark hole waiting to be unearthed. Not to shine as bright as the sun but to just be consistent; to be seen, understood and cherished. But how is that possible when we burying our treasures of old? Turning a blind eye as remnants are destroyed by our own palms and pages and pages of our heritage slowly being washed away at sea? Who are we? Where did we come from? What do our history books teach to the future generation? It is like they are being colonized all over again as American and British history is drilled into their consciousness. Barbadians show little interest in where they have originated but expect to move forward and not to be mentally enslaved! Modern day slavery! Black on black colonialism! These are issues that exist because of the lack of education and ignorance! Our own black man has become a colonial master; taking up imaginary authority over his brothers. The light skins over the dark skins and the straight hair over the nappy hair; the lighter you are the better chances you have because you can pass… Then they say that, “slavery done” “Massa don’t own we” Oh but he definitely own we brains as black man remains manacled by a past he does not even know! Now tell me, how it is that the same white man from England now years later is returning to our little island trying to salvage pieces of our heritage? Putting, time, effort and money into re-discovering the seeds that their ancestors planted- planted in the horrors of plantation life and in the burning red eyes behind canons. Isn’t it ironic that they care way more than we do? Our Bussas’ worked to build this very land that we live and thrive; their sweat watering the soil and their blood, tears and hope nourishing it so that we may carry on.

The past screams to be heard but it is almost as if the air waves captures these cries and turns them into silence and transmits nothingness into the ears and minds of this new generation. So we are forced to stand by and watch our past pass on because no one is listening; because modernization is a must, it is undeniable- modernization is the way forward and we must go forward not backward. So go ahead and bull doze our historic buildings, tile over the graves of our ancestors and turn a blind eye to the erosion of our islands ornaments. They question God’s existence based on the fact that they cannot see him with their own eyes and that his word is nothing but a mere tale and our past is treated similarly. How are we to believe that something was ever there If there is no proof? Who is telling the tale of our little rock? Who is telling the story of the early life of Speighstown? Who is explaining that the very architecture of our old churches speak so much of a culture and a socialization that has been passed down? – Silence.


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