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the mungo
- LANGAA RPCIG
- Chapter
- Additional Information
2 Letters to Marion (And the Coming Generations) Spear and Shield I lost my spear, I lost my shield When in my teens The battle of the world Was at its prime. Where will I hide my head in a searing world When death shut him in the grave? Many Julys since I peep thro’ the mousy mound through the rotting boards with sighs and salty tears Where Asaba Nkemngong’s remnants lie... the mungo the anchored barges on our shores, their carousing sails in mournful westward winds the hooting of an owl an evil song in the thickets a full ripe moon its radiance in the ocean (that widest road to slavery) there was greed in that madrush of howling waves that auctioned me from my cradle our quifons for they stood resolute and wore black caps and red feathers, pulled the oars for the slavers swearing they’d drown the river mungo 3 John Nkemngong Nkengasong till the land becomes one and the people one we were forsaken in the thorn-strewn plantations in those horizons where the sun takes a midday meal, and returning was dearer than our dear lives our quifons they emerged from the shade chewing hard crumbs of bread their voices dry like the proverbial ants’ and urged our new masters on with whips for our bodies shackles for our necks i cry the zuluman’s cry that split south afrik’s heart i shed the widow’s tears that drowned all ireland ha! the wicked blow which ruined old harlem’s ribs i hear the accursed slave sang misery to deaf white ears as i sing now to deaf-black ones they say god was not awake when i was born and the colour of a slave is black and i must follow in my shackles and till their soils round those horizons where the sun takes its midday meal i must follow gently, slavemasters to your volitions until the mungo drowns and the land becomes one. ...