By Fabian Badejo
Today is a day I’d like to forget
But all the forgotten
Are wailing from the belly
Of the sea
From the eerie silence
Of the earth above them
They all shout out
Like the swearing winds
Of Irma: Remember us
At least today.
How many of you fell
Into the tsunami waves
Of that monster from hell?
How many found in the coffins
Of their vessels
When Simpson Bay became a cemetery for seafarers?
Can anyone tell me
How many were butchered
By the sharp teeth of zinc
While seeking to save
Their grandmothers?
Or dragged mercilessly away
As they clutched the hands
Of their loved ones?
Today is a day I want to forget
But the moribund voices
Of the forgotten
Are telling me to remember
For we who survived
Have turned cowardly beggars
Waiting for the crumbs of bread
Massa believes is too much
For us to handle by ourselves.
Those Irma in her fury
Took away to reunite
With the ancestors
Deep deep down
Beneath the raging sea
Want to know
If the loss of a roof,
The loss of a house
The loss of a job,
Is greater
Than the loss of their lives.
Today is a day I’d like to forget
But I’m reminded
That those who forget
To remember their dead
Really have little
To live for.
St. Martin, September 6, 2018.
