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Cerise

Feet’s stomping the ground, wild cries of dominance from men, iron clashing with iron. This was all I could hear at a deafening volume, yet my racing heart beat powered by fear could be heard above all.

The gods sat in the sky and watched as men slaughtered one another. This was our dilemma and ours to handle alone. After the turn of man against the gods of the western rich lands, the gods decided to flee into the heavens, seeing man as too little to fight and thus left us to a fate of endless conflict. The old wise men warned us of our actions but we turned deaf ears.

Standing in the middle of such chaos, I only know I’m alive because my heart still pounds against my chest, harder and harder from each swing of my blade I throw at the blood thirsty savages.

“How did I get here? A native African prince drawn away from the comfort of the palace to the grief of the battle field. Certainly we have lost” I thought to myself as the fight raged on.

My father, ‘Alaafin Kayode’ led our hopeless battle. Father believed that there was more honor in fighting than surrendering to these dark forces from the shadow reach, a place of pure evil and savagery. The men of the shadow reach sought dominance over all of the land, taking down tribes one by one and expanding their territory. These animals trained the innocent young to be red eyed beasts, they turned the women to items of pleasure and burnt down all that was good in their path, leaving the aroma of destruction and sorrow to entice the gods in the heavens as a show of mockery. For so long they had waited for their day in the sun, but with the gods around, they had no chance.

“Why did man displace the gods? They would have prevented all this” I thought again as I took a mighty blow rising from below to my exposed chin.

Knocked down, with my consciousness hazy for a second, I could see a pool of blood spreading into a river on the once green field.

“Gbim!” my knocked off helmet hits the ground and I gain focus back to my attacker who is ready to force his hand carved wooden spear into me. For a split second, I think no response I make would count any more as I lift my hands to grab the thrusting spear.

“Slice!”

My father’s sword decapitates the savage like a hot knife through plastic.

The quick rush of relief came upon me and my old man looked like an angel as he stretched out his bloody hand to lift me up. “Dúró ṣinṣin” he yelled

Gaining my stance back didn’t come with a break, the fight raged on. Blood spills everywhere, cries of pain and rage drowned the sounds of the hundreds of men in opposition.

I could taste blood in my mouth, the taste of other men’s blood could either drive me to insanity or provide me with dark pleasure. The rot in my heart craved for a taste of blood, I fought a battle within, resisting to swallow and stay sane.

“Save us!!!”

I yelled up into the heavens as I gave in to my thirst. The sky had become a reflection of red, wine…unarguably crimson. The once blue ocean above us had been stained with blood, as though Moses rod touched the sky. All the sun did was watch with a dimmed face of horror.

Suddenly, my blood clouded vision spotted a light, the eyes of the god’s mysterious chariots.

The lights came down slowly, and I could see the gods chariots more clearly now. The winged vessels glided majestically above us, the gods in them with their skins as white as doves. I saw hope, now the tension rose for the opposition as they all stuttered in alarm.

“Ireti ti de” Roared one of our soldiers, and the rest chanted along in excitement.

A faint smile grew on my face and a surge of refresh coursed through my veins, cleansing my poisoned heart. The gods fired their terror arms at the savages, weapons of fire and metal were the arsenals of the wise gods.

Although the tides seemed to have turned in our favor after the savages had been vanquished. The white gods began to drop from their flying chariots and faced us with their magic death tools. We could not dare to temper the gods at this point, we were outmatched.

Certainly, not all that glitters is gold.

“Drop your weapons!” yelled the commanding god, ‘Lo-oad Tou-mus’ (Lord Thomas). Having spent some time in the god’s trainings, I had picked up an understanding for their strange white tongue, and so I translated to my people in haste, “e ju ohun ija yin sile”.

The men obeyed in reluctance. Dropping our weapons of stone, wood and iron felt shameful, as though we were tossing our pride to the ground.

Yes, they aided us and vanquished the growing threat, but this time, the presence of the gods was one we should not have entertained. They took the men and led us back to the village where they fired into the air and called upon the roar of thunder, inflicting fear in our naive hearts and this time taking us away from home just as we sent them away the first time.

The gods clamped chains on us like accessories and marched a number of us to the edge of the world where they had the biggest canoe I’d ever seen in my years.

“Such an engrossing vessel” I thought in awe.

“Take these ones for now” said a hairy god to his brethren. He looked like he had all the hair in the world growing from within him, he certainly was no masculine princess.

As we all entered the giant canoe, we were taken to its dark belly, down there I could hear its tummy rumble from all the water that must be beneath us. Father spoke out alas, in pain and in rage, citing incantations on our captivators. My father’s rants enraged the watching white god and in haste, he drew out his demon tail whip to lash the defenseless king.

Cries of agony, cries of confusion, were all that echoed all around me.

I reimagined the pool of blood I once saw and now, I’d began to wish my blood had painted the sky cerise as well for this was hell as far as I could tell.

I write this to you from my master’s barn. In slavery, I have learnt and I now I hope as you read this, you wake up from your slumber and regain your freedom my people.

 

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Publication Date: 11-21-2020

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