Dear Coast Landerz ah Guyana
By Gabrielle E. Mohamed
Do, prey tell,
Why ayo tink
Ya own meh lan?
No,
Seriously man,
Why yah tink dat yah invasion
Inta de art ah meh tribe
Waz accordin ta dah divine mystery?
An no, Boss,
Dis lan iz nah no
Art Ah De Darkness either.
Sheh de run red wid de blood
Ah we Red Muddah,
Protectah an Nurtrahah.
Buh like yah fahget
Iz sheh who de embrace yah
Afata enduring de wileness
Ah de ah-riginal massas.
Iz sheh who de unmould de colonial-ness
From yah bruk-up back.
Sheh de give yah back
De tounge dah massa cut aff.
Buh iz like
De savgaveness ah yah laws
Consume ya mind,
An undah de face a de full moon
Ee korup de psyche
Ta be less like de self,
An mo like dem,
De puppeteer, contortin
Yah movemenz ta ee will.
Well,
Leh meh tell yah sometin
Tah-day Tah-day.
Before de growth ah casos
An de birth ah sin,
Iz me an meh own own people
Oo roam dis lan eay.
De lan ah we Red Muddah.
We doz break bread
Wid de universe,
An see de fusha ah man in de starz.
We doz fee de energy ah
De Red Muddah in sheh treez,
An name de leavez ah all dem tree.
Buh iz oo you tink ya iz, ehh?
You, wit yah white laws,
Clothin yah self wid de Gladstone attidude
An de-siah fah ee luxury.
Lisen tah meh gud gud
Ayo,
Nah control me or meh tribe.
You dey in me lan,
Enjayn sheh pleasures
Fah too lang,
You dos abiuse de salivah ah
De red muddah an still wan mo.
Stap it, Invader,
Ee gat ta stap.
Budday, you come from
De seed a casos,
In de colonial misery,
An yah picknee iz de heir
A casos.
Productz ah sin
Dah sail in de waves ah de Kali Pani.
Check
Ya-self, Guyana.
Yah movin like dem ol massas, bai.
Yah eatin we soul like dem,
Yah tryin fah dominate like dem.
An for what?
All ah dis murder an destruction
Iz fah wah?
Fah prah-gress?
Prah-gress, ee cruel.
An iz de dutty joke ah Iz-tory.
Nah believe meh?
Ask de ruptured
Lungz ah de lan,
Like flesh,
Expose ta de touch ah sin,
Scorch undah ya touch
Coast Lander.
Dear Coast Landers of Guyana
Do, pray tell,
Why do you think
That you own my land?
No,
Seriously man,
Why do you think that your invasion
Into the heart of my tribe
Was according to the divine mystery?
And no, Boss,
This land is no
Heart of the Darkness either.
She ran red with the blood
Of our Red Mother,
Protector and Nurturer.
But like you forgot
It’s she who embraced you
After enduring the wildness
Of the original masters.
It’s she who de unmolded the colonial-ness
From your broken back.
She gave you back
The tongue that the master cut off.
But it’s like
The savageness of your laws
Consumes your mind,
And under the face of the full moon
He corrupt the psyche
To be less like the self,
And more like them,
The puppeteer, contorting
Your movements to his will.
Well,
Let me tell you something
Today today.
Before the growth of chaos
And the birth of sin,
It’s me and my own-own people
Who roamed this land here,
The land of Our Red Mother.
We break bread
With the universe,
And see the future of man in the stars.
We feel the energy of
The Red Mother in her trees,
And name the leaves on all the trees.
But is who do you think you are, ehh?
You, with your white laws,
Clothing yourself with the Gladstone attitude
And the desire for his luxury.
Listen to me good good
You,
Don’t control me or my tribe.
You’re in my land,
Enjoying her pleasures
For far too long,
You abuse the saliva of
The Red Mother and still want more.
Stop it, Invader,
It has to stop.
Budday, you come from
The seed of chaos,
In the colonial misery,
And your child is the heir
Of chaos.
Products of sin
That sail in the waves of the Kali Pani.
Check
Yourself, Guyana.
You’re moving like them old masters, boy.
You’re eating our soul like them,
You’re trying to dominate like them.
And for what?
All of this murder and destruction
Is for what?
For progress?
Progress, it’s cruel.
And it’s the dirty joke of History.
Don’t believe me?
Ask the ruptured
Lungs of the land,
Like flesh,
Exposed to the touch of sin,
Scorched under your touch
Coast Lander.
