The Tribal Beat of Distant Drums

The smiles
Of the sun
On the island
Is awesome
On the silvery sands
Beneath our feet on beaches
We like to roam

Westward ho

The chain of island gems
Set in the Atlantic Ocean
And in the blue Caribbean Sea

Barbados is one of them

My homeland I love

The Bussa statute reminds me
That we are free
At last, to find our destiny

But now and then we do hear
The beating of African drums
Distant drums, ancestral drums
Enticing us, the forsaken ones

To come

Home

To mother

Africa

You tell us to come home

But how can we

To a foreign land
Its language

And culture

We don’t readily
Understand

Our journeys amid
The trade winds
Centuries ago
In the prime
Of our lives
Stripped us
Of our usual behavior
Our roots
And self-respect

You sent us far,

Far, far away

Across the sea
Into bondage
And slavery

We with broken spirits
Sailed away

In ships commandeered
By pirates and buccaneers
For a life we knew not
What to expect
But loneliness
And uncertainty

This tribal beat
Of distant drums
Do tell us what it means

So we toiled day and night
In fields so sweet
The sap we turned into sugar
The economic base
For the privileged class

With our bare feet
And tortured fingers
Amid the prickly trash
And heat

This tribal beat

Of distant drums

Do tell us what it means

Those cotton-picking fields
And the steep hills
We climbed
With crocus sacks

And burlap bags
Upon our backs

The wrinkled brows
Bore not a frown
For fear of shouts
And blows

The sweat rolled down
Crystals of salt
Like threaded beads
Around the neck
Became the irritants
For opened cuts
And bruises

We endured
Such brutal acts
From men
With hearts
Almost like stone

Much work
And homage
We slavishly gave
In exchange
For a place
To rest our weary heads

Our journals full
Of pain and gore
Made us wished silently
For a miracle and a cure

We are now, proud people
With children of many colours
Like the rainbow in sky
The eternal sign
Of the promised hope
For all mankind
That is tall and free

In a new land

An independent land

Of Barbados

And the blessed West Indies

Yes, we do hear those drums
The ancestral drums

Of Africa

But please drum for us
In a language
We can understand
Like the steel pan
The calypso rhythm
And the soca beat

Come, come, and visit us

You must

Dear Africa

For our friendly hugs

We give to you.

© Paterika Hengreaves

Composed February 2006 in Ohio, USA

This poem points to the time when people from Africa were forced into slavery in America and the islands of the Caribbean (West Indies). After slavery was abolished in 1834 the black population of Barbados took advantage of the superb education available and weaned themselves away from the sugar plantations the symbol of their oppression. The much progress made in the era of emancipation caused a statue to be erected in Barbados at the round-about at Haggatts Hall in 1985 to mark the 150th Anniversary of the abolition of slavery in Barbados. The statue is that of a slave with hands outstretched symbolizing the breaking of the chains of slavery and the head of the statue is thrown back as though in proud victory. the statue is is known as the "Bussa Statue" but most Barbadians prefer to call it "The Emancipation Statue" because it goes beyond the physical act of slavery and includes the freeing of the mind from institutionalized slavery.

In recent time, there has been this call by some Barbadians to return to Africa (The Back To Africa Movement). However, the love of their new found land and by the majority of Barbadians is much too strong. They opined that the dilemma of having lost their true African identity by way of culture, language and customs any type of repatriation could prove unbearable and could easily be turned into yet another form of slavery. As a matter of fact, this dichotomous situation is artfully celebrated in the poem, "The Tribal Beat of Distant Drums".