When I was a slave to be sold in 2016 to terrorist
The slave and the Prince were both conceived the same way. I was born free. Am l not supposed to be where l wish to be ? I was indoctrinated into servitude as a man because of my black skin. Cruelty baptized me with a brand on my skin colour. That Bound me and my kin in shackles, chains like beasts. Forced me to bend and work. Hard labour with poor salary crashed my dreams. Sentenced to inhuman conditions.
First time seeing the Mediterranean sea. My Spirit was broken and Morally deprived. My heritage rendered me inferior to be repressed and oppressed.
A wave of nightmare filled the skies as the Lapa lapa rubber⛵ boat reeled across the Mediterranean sea wave 🌊 like a drunken master on four different trials. Trying to cross the the Mediterranean sea to Italy. Once we almost drown, very terrible day and a horrible experienced. Abandoned at the sea shore after we were rescued at sabratha for months. I dreamt of a new life in Europe. Reality felt like a deep cut with each passing day goes by.
In Libya We saw death waiting for us to be judged every single day. Every single day Fear barked like a stray dog. Terror ensued simultaneously. History of our fore father slavery was repeating itself before my eyes and i was terrified. I thought I will never make it out of Libya alive.
Freedom had forgotten my name. I bear a new name Kazeem Abdul Rahman. Even back home am Still feeling the absence of freedom. I finally bear Rotimi.
In Libya my painful reality sunk deep. I was a prisoners in sigen and later in Tejura deportation center. I was a slave Lined up to be sold for just 1,200 Dinar. Until l did my selling bargain myself with the help of my best friend Nelson a Ghanaian aka Arab King kong , reducing my price tag to 800 Dinar 🇦🇫. My worst experienced in life.
In Libya the ugly page of our dark past history was re-written with blood on the Libyan soil. We were tortured, starved, over laboured, beating to death. I want the whole world to hear me, Televised and shared on social media as hash tags with my images if you have one plastered on the world screen. The scabs from the transatlantic and sub Saharan slave trade haven’t fully healed.
Yet, here i am reliving the horror from past atrocities. Braving the blows my ancestors took. All l wish and wanted was just to dip my feet in Europe and lived a happy life and a fulfilled purpose of human being.
Being African isn’t a shame. My black skin is not for sale. My ancestors didn’t march and fight to have me bound in iron cast chains, and sold like a cattle.
Though am back Home suffering but l thank God 🙏 for coming back alive. God will surely intervened in my life…..
I am not for Sale. Thanks to God and credit to Nelson🇬🇭 aka Arab King kong.
