and elbowing and prodding

until the sound of

War Horn’s snickering

is replaced

by the roar

and crash

of a mean, mighty water

until we are in the middle

of a courtyard

that holds more pale-faced men

and tree-trunk-size weapons

built into the ground.

until we are forced

to bend our knees

and heads

to their boss.

THE GOVERNOR

of the castle,

their boss,

walks by each of us

slapping

grabbing

our chins,

forcing our mouths open

with his filthy fingers,

as if he searching

for something hidden

inside us,

beads of foul sweat

from his face

dribbling

on our heads.

The red coats

push everyone facedown

to the ground

but me and Owu,

seize their arms,

knee their necks,

then one by one

burn a red-hot iron

onto their arms

that sends them

shrieking and twisting

in horror and

a kind of pain

that I can only imagine

mirrors death.

AFTER THE EXAMINATION

the men with no color

douse the five of us

with palm oil,

then give us a cupful

of water

to drink

before they measure us

from toe to head.

Owu and I are dragged

in one direction,

the Zombie and the other two

in another,

and when he steals

a glance at me,

I am unable

to push away

the horror

in his eyes

or the fear pouring

from mine.

DUNGEON

We are both thrown

into a pitch-black chamber

littered with human waste

that reeks so badly

our stomachs instantly burst,

emptying

on the cobbled stones

that punish

our bloodied knees.

DIZZINESS

When the retching ceases

and my eyes bend

to the darkness,

I scan

the shadows

of our confinement

and find a flood

of blurred faces

dark and desperate

like mine.

I see stunned little boys

I see frightened girls

I see a dark lady

with hair like a rope

holding on to as many of them

as she can.

My mind fades,

tricks me

into thinking

that Ebo and Ama

are here too,

crammed

into the corner

of my imagination.

Then I see nothing.

IN THIS DREAM

a bull is slaughtered.

Its horns become bowls and beads

and bangles

that become chains.

Its blood turns

to red clay.

I use it

to build a home

near the water

for Ama.

We are eating yams

when the soldiers come

with severed cow heads

tied to their belts.

There is music, a black bird

with piercing white eyes

and broken wings

singing in the night.

Maame calls out to me.

The river says my name.

Even the walls speak.

Come, come, they say. What is done cannot be undone.

CONVERSATION WITH THE DARK LADY

Come, come. Give me your hand, says the soft voice of a woman floating over me.

…

Ete sen? she whispers, sounding like a mother greeting a waking child.

ME KO! I shriek, trying to jump up. I must leave.

We are not going anywhere. Shhh, before they hear you!