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Banana Day on the Plantation

We gather for The Harvest of Memory. The harvest of our lives.

By Novel AllenPublished about a year ago • 2 min read

Lawd. Talkin' dis English is hard enough...Now dem want me rite (write) it down. I sure will try - for it be liberatin' day a'comin. I so glad dat Marie, de kind heart big house daughter, did teach me English lessons, on dem days when she mammy go dress shopping . Bless her little heart.

Is Banana day tomorrow at de market. Massa say we to see dat dem nice and sucki..sukkilent...(succulent) (not sure wat dat word mean), but I sure him probably mean - dat dem mus be plump and firm.

Oh, yes. Dem goin be right pleasin to de touch awright- for what massa don know will be goin hurt him head fo many a day to come.

For tomorrow is de day we plan to run...wen him tink we taking banana to market - we goin fill our sacks with him precious banana fruit and travel wit the guide man to go meet Mz. Harriet down by de "Undergrung Rail Place". (Underground Railroad).

De plan been long in de making...we practice it down to de last detail.

But today...down below de Plantation big house, we toil in de hot sun gathering de green and yellow fruit. Dem yell and lash we back if we even try to eat one of them God given strange and sukkilent fruit.

De slave man dem hold dem machete firm, sitting precariously perched (I hear de missus use dem dere big words all de time, laughing at we discomfort, when she watch as we do dangerous work).

Anyway...Manfred is hacking away at de fruit growing high up in de banana tree. Dem all be careful, for any waste will bring the wrath of de overseer, some of dem our own Black brodah lashing us wid de whip. A pox on dem, later I will do a hoodoo spell to make them hands fall off. De traitors.

Us women, we gather de fruit carefully, for we not immune to the watcher man dem lash. We pile dem on de ground, making sure dem fit right nice in de baskets. Tomorrow we load dem on the big market horses dem grazing nearby.

Photo by British Library on Unsplash

Is night now. Manfred fetch a nice big banana bunch. Twenty of us hurry to put a few in we run bag. For eatin on the go...runnin people need energy to go real fast. And lawd, did we earn it!

Kwami, de Hoodoo herb man, feed the horse and dog dem valerian root sleeping medicine. Dat will sure slow dem down...If it please de Spirits!

We ready now.

Twenty gathering where fruit once we harvested

Twenty, men women and children drawing sustenance

From songs of hope long hummed in silence...Afraid!

The Shaman blesses the soil...invoking hope from the bones

Bones of those gone before...ghosts guiding our path

Beneath the earth which held their blood, sweat and tears

Twenty under the harvesting moon...run to save their lives

Twenty escaping the lash and hanging trees

Now dem name we (Strange Fruit).

Harriet...We comin'.

Photo by Kirt Morris on Unsplash

Amen!

inspirationalBalladFree Verse

About the Creator

Novel Allen

Existing in mist and shadow. Neutrally Abstract.

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    Written by Novel Allen