Torn from the vine from another world 

to tame the wildness of the juice, assigned

with bill and hoe to field or factory, chained 

by the voracious hunger of the cane 

the world’s rapacious appetite for sweetness

How place names of my servitude mock me: 

Eden, Golden Vale, Friendship, Green Valley,

Hermitage, Lethe, Retreat, Retirement, Content, 

Paradise, Phoenix, Hope, Prospect, Providence

 Each with the Great House squatting 

on the highest eminence 

the Sugar Works overlooking 

my master’s eye unyielding 

the overseer unblinking

not seeing

the black specks 

floating across 

their finely-crafted 

landscape 

At shell blow assembled the broken-down bodies, 

the job-lots scrambled into gangs like 

beads on a string O not pearls no just unmatched 

pairings the random bindings like cane trash no 

not like the cane pieces laid out geometric and

given names

and burning

Olive Senior, Jamaican literary architect explicitly turned the pages of our history with her poem, ‘Cane Gang’. The piece sheds light on Slavery and how the African slaves suffered and toiled on the vast sugar plantations. Broken-mentally, physically and spiritually, slavery was a point in our history that will always be etched in our minds. It mangled our fore parents, violated our women, girls (even boys) and subjected any remnant of African culture to the nadir of the social, cultural, political hierarchy of the society. But little did backra know that the fire, desire and propensity to be FREE, INDEPENDENT and unshackled from the Eurocentric chains would be fast approaching. All the men, women and children who suffered and fought- their attempts did not go in vain as 1833 pointed to the path of the long deserved freedom.

The Abolition Act was passed in Britain in 1833, which essentially stated that all enslaved in the British empire will no longer be stifled by servitude-thanks be to God. Not short after, 1834 came upon us and the uncontrollable jubilance of our fore parents could not be contained.

However, the Apprenticeship system would have derailed this euphoric ecstasy because it kept those, except children under six years old, tied to the plantation system. The apprenticeship system was backra’s way of “ensuring a smooth transition into freedom”, because they really needed that, right?  Of course, we are not buying that excuse, because the system was just the plantocracy’s way of squeezing every inch and ounce of will-power, fortitude, Asante-infused potency to build an already crippling plantation system.

Nonetheless, slavery was legally abolished August 1, 1834-which is known as Emancipation Day. 

Each year after that was met with avid celebration, dancing, joy and festivities. An appreciation and gratitude for moving from under the exploitative and opportunist hands of the British Empire. However, it seems like our country especially our young people have forgotten the meaning behind the day, as well as adults are guilty of this. For many, it seems as if the day is one where we are just thankful that there is no work, or just go to the beach, river or any other leisure activity. The country simply seems to be lacking a sense of cultural rejuvenation and needs a good dosage of awareness. Yes, the P.M and Opposition leader present a well scripted piece on TV, but what else? Places of work and businesses may even deck out the organization in black, green and gold-and don’t worry, we applaud that, but truly more has to be done.

Our young people seem to be lacking some cultural and historic cognizance-yes go to the  river or get an ice cream from Devon house, but also reflect and appreciate the efforts of Tacky, Nanny of the Maroons, Paul Bogle, Bussa(this is a Barbadian slave who led the 1816 revolt), the passive methods that many of the women on the plantation would have done(for example fake illnesses, breastfeed their babies longer than usual to avoid going to the Great House) and even the work of Thomas Buxton, William Wilberforce, Granville Sharpe and the many other heroes and heroines in their own respect.  They put their shoulder to the wheel, literally and figuratively so that we- you and I could enjoy the life we have today. Parents, I charge you as well, to get culturally in sync so as to teach your children and help them develop a love for their roots. Enjoy your leisure activity, certainly our fore parents did that since slavery did not afford that privilege. But just don’t allow that to be the focus of the day.

Emancipation day is not just a day where we flood our IG pages with the national flag and overused quotes from Marcus Garvey and Bob Marley-we know them all.

Because do you really think and reflect on the significance of the words?

Have we really emancipated ourselves from mental slavery?

Sometimes I think that this is one of the most paradoxical days of the year. And since a people without knowledge of their history is a tree without roots, I gather that many Jamaicans are rootless!

Read, reflect, appreciate and celebrate that no longer are we under a system that casts us aside because we were born dark-skinned. For those who are injected by the cultural and historical panacea, I applaud you and encourage you to continue. As for some of the members of my generation, who may not be as cultured, why not change the mindset, huh? One step at a time of course.

In addition, for those in power, we see the effort: Miss Jamaica Festival Queen being one notable event, however more celebrations and involvement of our youth will make an immense difference. So as the August breeze blows in, let us immerse ourselves in the beauty and diversity that is our culture, roots, heritage and mentally, intellectually, spiritually evoke the ‘Jamaican-esque’ aura, and not just for the day or the month of August, but carry it on for a lifetime.

‘We a come from far’ So I implore you, my Beautiful Black Kings and Princes filled with wisdom, excellence and purity running through your veins. My ethereal Black Queens and princesses, sculpted by greatness, strength and infinite radiance- to reflect, respect and culturally rejuvenate. Happy Emancipation Day and Happy Emancipendence!!!

Black eye, black hair, black skin

Black queen stand majestic with the black king

Today I’ll sing you a black song

You need to hear about beautiful black things ’cause

Most time we hear about black, we hear about black magic and black witches

Black list, black book, black market

Black Friday, ya spend off your black riches

I’ve never seen a doctor in black nor seen a black pill fi cure no black people

But I’ve seen bush doctors like Tosh and Marley resurrect like a real black beatle

Malcom, Marcus, Martin

When you see Walter Rodney ask him

How you nuh hear about Howell often

So when the little offspring asking, tell them

They never told us that black is beautiful—Chronixx

— Tamoy Campbell