By Yoanna Hailu
As we wade farther and deeper
into our watery grave.
Singing the songs of our mothers
against the drum of every wave.
Ankles, knees, and hips
bodies and heads submerged entirely.
Drowning with determination
shackles broken, we’re free finally.
Experiencing our final baptism
water filling our lungs.
Never reaching the land of the Americas
where cowards hide behind guns.
Denying the white man our labour
saying no with our lives.
Praying that death would take us back to Africa
and that our legacy survives.