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There we become the spell to break spells and drink confessions of the passing crowd, poured out willingly into our patient cups in platinum thoughts, only overflowing from many streams:
not carved in wooding stratifications; but flowing in fleeting currents to mock parables by words dipped in gnomic ambience, with our many open bottles… and uncorked minds by shredded reasons in high places…
sometimes we laugh gaining bent rays from the Sun, and then we laugh again and ask where all the open bottles have gone, like that fourteen rain drops at the back of all things…
and with our lingering legend, we seduce many latent aristocracies with shots of good hope…
A cherished childhood spent cocooned in my inward-looking community, Protected me from the indoctrination of a white-privileged history. But when I stepped into a world where brown was under-represented
My identity…Was molested.
My speech, skin, hair and dress, seemed to cause the white man stress. And brown was a tan on the white man’s skin, But brown on a brown man stirred anger from within. My thoughts and views were misaligned, with rooted, selective, historical lies.
My identity…Was compromised.
I was now paradoxically an exotic delight, a shameful pressure to apologise For the privilege of living in the civilised world, where white and West comfortably merge. My education spoke of no oppressive past, the Normans and Saxons, unequivocal facts. No mention of my ancestors, murdered. Indigenous peoples, exploited, slaughtered.
Building privilege through the strength of tyranny,
Calculated villainy.
White privilege, invisible to the white, naked eye. Yet it lives in every coloured breath,
In every silent cry.
I have lived with an unseen claim, that white is right and everything else is to blame. But lessons in life inspired me to rise and pronounce myself with an internal pride. To name and shame the blood-stained colonialist, the callous, indifferent, imperialist.
And from their murderous history, rose the modern man insecurity, The truth, the bloody, brutal, truth, that is the black man’s reality.
Still evident today is a strong disclination, reflected in the ignorance of the nation To admit that their historical success, was moralistically, humanely, a bloody mess.
But not all should hang their head in shame…it’s not you but your past that is to blame. Yet the consequences of those crimes, have won you privilege and power through time. And the legacy of the other: disadvantage, subjugation, intimidation, domination.
And still they make subconscious judgements, of my backward, other, non-conformist views. A stubbornness in accepting and respecting the path that I decide to choose. Delve deep into your history, open up your subliminal mind,
And ask the difficult questions, seek, unfeigned, with loosened pride.
BLOWN OFF TOO SOON „ ( REST IN PEACE GEORGE PERRY FLOYD)
On 25th May the knelt your breadth away, And set the world in turmoil, The Heaven‘s are troubled with man‘s brutality, that stage war against a ‚RACE‘ And tribe ‚
Rage ! Rage against man, Who forgot the beauty in Black history ,
In death lies your hero, They ceased your breathing, Not knowing the set free the breadth Of unrest,
They shall sing their sad song s, And you watch them from top, Deliberate claims,
Your death is not in vain, Who could have stopped them ? They law, But now you are gone,
They world is mourning and left with Many unanswered questions,
They world can’t refrain from crying 😭 For a brutal exit of a young guy, Who was blown off too soon, A young man that had a heart to love, And a courage to be Black,
Yes you were born Black and died Black, You only wanted to breathe like everyone,
Today , is another special day to stop for 8 minutes and bid you final goodbye,
Mother Africa will give you breadth, Which they earth refused you, Which the law knelt down , And took away from you in 8minutes,
We can not stop crying 😭 Though we did not get to meet you, But we felt your pains, Now our pains,
Go in peace George ‚ And May the Angels lead you to the Gate of Heaven, There is no sorrow, No discrimination, No cops to kneel on your neck, And take your breadth, At random,
T‘is day, And yet peace have eluded them, Those racists,
If you can see him like your brother His colour won’t cause you to bother. You’ll treat him with care You’ll try to be fair.
If you can see her like your sister You’ll mind how you treat her. You’ll assist and not assault her You’ll protect and not plunder her.
If your can see him like your brother You’ll defend and not destroy him You’ll stand by him and not against him You’ll show him love and not care less.
If you can see her like your sister You’ll love her like your mother And not murder her like the others. You’ll help her stay safe outside And not force your way inside.
If you can see him like your brother You’ll know you’re from the same Father. You’ll be a life Saver Rather than act like a Smother.
If you can see her like your sister You should watch her grow and not groan Help her rise and glow And not lead her six feet below.
‘THE WINDRUSH GENERATION AND THE HOSTILE ENVIRONMENT BILL’
By Eulinda Antonette Clarke-Akalanne
Composed on Monday 28th May 2018, updated as necessary.
Let’s look back in history
to find the origins of the Windrush mystery.
Three hundred and seventy-six years ago…
women, children and men of African origin
were captured and enslaved to work in the Caribbean.
These slaves became British West Indian Citizens
who laboured for the British plantocracy in their thousands.
They tilled the earth, fork, spaded and hoed
Harvesting coffee, cocoa, tobacco
and producing sugar which was called ‘White gold’
that enriched Britain’s economy much more than a hundred-fold
financing her commercial and industrial Revolution
while strengthening and expanding her capitalism.
West Indians served in the two great wars
soldering on with patriotism, pride and deep loyalty
to fight and to die for Britain, their Mother Country.
Now, fast forward, 71 years ago, they were called to Britain to serve again
to fill job vacancies created by World War two
which many local people deemed undesirable to do.
With no hesitation the migrants came to serve their king and country
They came to the mother-land that they adored…
a land of hope and bounty.
The ship, ‘Empire Windrush,’ brought the first four hundred and ninety-two…
In the year 1948, Tuesday, June twenty-two.
They filled job vacancies like Public Transport, National Health Service (to which I belonged) and British rail,
despite having their social and cultural lives curtail …
by prejudice, racism, discrimination, hostility and attacks
like the 1958 and 1959 assaults in Notting Hill by white youths on blacks….
And bullied by Teddy boys and barred from private houses and flats
with signs which read ‘No Irish, No dogs, No blacks’
And the 1962 Immigration Act designed to close British doors
Barring further entry to Coloureds to Britain’s shores.
Plus an election campaign slogan of 1964
That read ‘If you want a NIGGER for a neighbour
VOTE LABOUR
and Enoch Powell’s ‘Rivers of Blood prophesy of 1968,
That hasn’t materialised up to today’s date.
The Windrush migrants never questioned their residential state
because they believed their statuses were up to date.
These beliefs were reinforced by the immigration Act 1971
That conferred Indefinite Leave of stay to them, each and everyone
The contributions and jobs these loyal citizens maintained
Helped to build a global and modern Britain
Theresa May’s ‘Hostile Environment Bill of 2013
Aimed to reduce net migration to tens of thousands, this was the dream.
It made life in Britain difficult for[ACA2] those without correct documentation
and caused many Windrush migrants’ hardships beyond expectation
because, some had lost their original passports and/or documentation
And to crown it all, in 2009 by Home Office instruction
their landing cards and records went to destruction.
This resulted in many of them being declared illegal immigrants
despite paying their taxes and National Insurances
Some had their driving licences revoked
Others were sacked from their jobs and left destitute and broke
Some were evicted from home
and left on the streets to rough sleep and roam
Bank accounts were frozen and salaries denied
From these experiences some tragically died
all because of the Hostile Environment Bill
that psychologically maims and sometimes physically kill
Some Windrush migrants were deported
others were denied re-entry to Britain when at the airports they reported.
Some people’s pensions were stopped
And others had health care suspended or completely dropped.
Some families were split and separated
some individuals were incarcerated or repatriated
The traumas of the Hostile Environment Bill are too numerous to mention here
But some include despair, depression, dread and fear
Suffice it to say, some experienced extreme calamity
Deep mental scars and total disharmony.
Thanks to some MP’s the Windrush Scandal has now abated
And by December 2018 more than 3000 Windrush migrants
Had their British Citizenships reinstated
Windrush experiences are not all doom and gloom
There are lots of successful stories with glitter and boom
But I’ll recite these on another occasion
Because it’s time for me to leave this podium
But….. before I take my exit
I ask, ‘What’s happening next?’
Now there is Brexit?
THE END.
This work is protected by copyright. No part of this work may be copied, stored, transmitted or distributed without my expressed prior written approval.
My name is Eulinda Antonette Clarke-Akalanne. I was born in Barbados but have lived in England since I was 18 years old. I worked in the National Health Service (NHS) for almost 50 years as a General Nurse, Midwifery Sister, Senior[EC1] Psychiatric Charge Nurse, Nurse Prescriber and Senior Health Visitor. I also qualified and worked as a Social Worker. Since retiring I achieved one of my dreams and graduated with BA honors in Anthropology from the University of Bristol. I am a poet, my compositions are related to experiences of myself and others
Tojake has BA Hons in Advertising and Brand Management from University of Creative Arts, Surrey, England.
She is a Radio-Video Presenter, Art Director, Content Creator, Branding Consultant, Marketing Strategist, Healthy living Promotor, Event Planner, Serial Networker and Multipreneur.
She is the founder of Nustar Gemz Ltd http://www.nustargemz.com a Jewellery craft business selling and will be relaunched on July 2020 and NU9 Empire Network Ltd http://www.nu9empire.com a Networking and Branding Business for Nubian Professional and Business owners. NU9 Empire Network do weekly newsletters and to feature on our Newsletter email nu9empire@gmail.com.
Her hobbies and Sports Activities includes Tennis, Yoga, Walking, healthy eating, Watching Edutainment Television shows, Reading, Chess and Sudoku.
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TONY TOKUNBO ETEKA FERNANDEZ 