The Coming


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Table of Contents
About the Author
Copyright Page
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This book is dedicated to the memory and celebration of African souls lost in the Atlantic Ocean. We have not forgotten you. You are our strength. We, your children, exalt you and sing of your glory forever. This is also for those who reached land but never made it home. Your struggle was not in vain. We remember you. We name our children after you. We travel to Mother Africa and take you with us. You are home again.
It was the coming that was bad.…
—Sonia Sanchez
Part I
We didn’t know we wouldn’t return. We simply believed some terrible calamity had befallen us, that our Gods had let tragedy come because we had not honored them. But we were wrong.
We were warriors and hunters, poets and jali, farmers and soothsayers. We were magicians and healers, artisans and thinkers, writers and dancers. We were fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, cousins and kinsmen. We were lovers. And we were home. We loved the land and it loved us. We were black like the land, and kissed by the sun. We knew our strengths and our frailties, and we knew much needed improvement. But we were home.
We were the Fon, the Ibo, the Hausa, the Ashanti, the Mandinka, the Ewe, the Tiv, and the Ga. We were the Fante, the Fulani, the Ijaw, the Mende, the Wolof, the Yoruba, the BaKongo, and the Mbundu. We were the Serere, the Akan, the Bambara and the Bassa. And we were proud. We knew our ancestors by name. They knew our names: Kwesi, Lusati, Lutalo, Yejide, Chinasa, Obrafo, Yaasantewa, Mawu, Ombeni, Chinsera, and Ubongo. We were Fatou, Folami, Olumide, Amalu, Ifetayo, Kacela, Shamba, and Sowande. And each name has a meaning: “He who opens ways.” “She comes softly like the rain, yet floods the rivers.” “I am my father’s loved one, my mother’s precious one who makes everything all right.” “She is a hunter, gathering sweet words for us all.” “Mother of the universe who represents great wisdom.” “Born on Sunday.” “Born on Tuesday.” “Born on Friday.” “This child is priceless.” Our names told us who we were. They told us why we’d been sent. What was expected of us. We were not confused. We were not ashamed. We were not perfect, but we were excellent.