these burdens that I carry

these burdens that I carry, heavy like lead. with these chains, i walk, i run, i swim, i navigate this world that i have no claim to. a world that we lost in a battle ten generations ago - this war a clever ambush fuelled by greed and wickedness. this war lay waste to my ancestral home, my gods, and my culture -to the earth that has fed and replenished us for time unknown. everything destroyed in reverence of a new god, an unfamiliar god, they called him money. this god had power unlike any my people knew before, and to how my grandfather told it - it demanded servitude, offerings, and sacrifice like no other. It was an angry god. eventually, we had to bow to it despite our best resistance. our people died many deaths- spiritual and physical. they were revived and killed again until they obeyed this unforgiving god until they gave of themselves, til nothing left but dry bone and pain.

my grandmother always said its worship was the root of all evil, but i not sure i believe her. after, she never knew money nor her grandmother or fi hers, she couldn’t keep it - seh it always “just disappear”. so comes, i inherit this struggle. my body tired from this load, granny would say, it is our cross to bear. but, what if i tired of this burden? my back not good as hers, and my mind nuh as strong. mi grandfather seh mi fi join the resistance, from time to time, i hear his whisper in my ear. him seh, the chain dem can bruk, him seh if we go back to we roots wi can overcome, but weh him know? him dead long time and things and time change. sometimes mi overhear them talk- all the people dem weh come before me. dem ever a beg mi come talk to dem. but, mi just don’t have time. dem seh mi bright, mi fi come learn from dem mistake, learn from dem experience. but, dem figot seh mi still a walk round with fi dem chain, how mi fi trust dem? mi still haffi eat and sleep.

my family nuh worship money like some people enuh, but wi haffi respect it. if a neva fi money wi wudda dead off long time, at least a so mi see it, so wi haffi slave fi it just like how dem weh believe a dem god. sometime mi feel like mi people dem shoulda just join money church, wi exalt it anyway yuh tek it. granny seh wi cyah do that, cus anuh like wi burden ago gone, just wi pride alone. but, weh mi get time fi listen to old people chat?

i eavesdropped on the ancestors today, i don’t know why i never just join them. they said i was their only hope. they said one day, balance will be restored. i looked at my chains and sighed, and imagined how quick i could run, how far i could jump, without them. for so long, i held my burden to my chest like a baby to nurse. i nourished it with my own flesh, watered it with my own blood. i realized I cannot do this anymore, but i don’t know where to start. the anger i let build up in me, transferred from generation to generation through mind and body; i sat with it. it told me things. now, i not an idealist, but i realize i must fight. even in vain, i must. the burden still heavy, and i still have to carry it, I still have to sustain myself so i have to serve their false god. but one day, they will fall... and i will be there in whatever form i take on that day, and i will rejoice with gladness and singleness of heart, that Babylon has fallen.

on that day, i will run and climb and jump with the strength that my people have built from generations of carrying this burden. i will call my ancestors and we can finally have that talk they been bothering me about. but for now, i plotting and i scheming, i listening to all the whispers, i taking on every dream, i giving granny the respect she deserve. Mi tell her nuh watch nuh face, cause i gon’ fix dem business yuh see with the magic, the knowledge, and the power that has accumulated within me, since long before the start of this new world.