Transatlantic Slavery

Reading about the UN vote on transatlantic slavery and Europe's abstention really hit me hard. It stirs up so many emotions – a mix of anger, sadness, and a deep sense of injustice that still lingers today. This isn't just a historical event; it's a living legacy that profoundly impacts African people across the globe, including our own families. It's truly mind-boggling that in this day and age, some nations still refuse to acknowledge and condemn their ancestors' role in such a horrific chapter of human history. The passionate voice in the OCR is right – it feels like a refusal to take accountability, a denial of the immense suffering caused by the kidnapping of Africans and forced labor for centuries. The OCR highlights the immense sorrow felt, stating, 'It is really, really sad.' This sentiment resonates deeply, as the sheer scale of human suffering, the breaking of families, and the generational trauma inflicted by this brutal system are unfathomable. The idea of 'karma' mentioned in the OCR really resonates. For generations, African people were stripped of their dignity, their culture, and their very freedom. To see some of the very nations that profited from this atrocity now abstain from condemning it, it feels like a perpetuation of that historical disregard. It screams volumes about how they feel about people of color, even now. The assertion that Europe's actions are 'their karma' for what they did to 'the African people' is a stark reminder that consequences, even moral ones, linger. They were 'too lazy to want to work their own fields,' leading them to 'kidnap Africans' and 'force them to work for free.' This narrative flips the script, exposing the true motivations behind such heinous acts and placing the blame squarely where it belongs. Why is it so hard for some to simply say 'we were wrong,' or 'we condemn this'? Because acknowledging the truth of transatlantic slavery, the systematic kidnapping of Africans, and the brutality of forced labor, is acknowledging a debt – not just financial, but moral and societal. It's about recognizing the incredible resilience of those who survived and the ongoing impact on their descendants. The raw emotion in the speaker's voice – 'it makes me want to vomit' – perfectly captures the frustration many of us feel. We're not asking for pity; we're demanding truth, accountability, and a genuine condemnation of the systems that enslaved millions. This isn't just ancient history; it's the foundation of modern inequalities and prejudices. Every word spoken about this injustice, every demand for recognition, every refusal to let this history be forgotten – these are 'black power words.' They are not words of aggression, but words of strength, resilience, and a steadfast commitment to remembering our ancestors and fighting for a more just future. They remind us that despite attempts to break spirits and erase identities, the power of our ancestry, our 'family' as the OCR says, remains. The personal indignation, 'they don't care anything about me as a Black,' underscores the deep-seated pain. This isn't an abstract historical event; it's a living wound for many, tied directly to their identity and experience. Even in 2026, as the speaker points out, we're still grappling with this. The refusal to apologize, the ongoing disregard for the descendants of those kidnapped and forced into slavery, tells us that the fight for true equity is far from over. Our 'damnbusiness' was interrupted, and the repercussions continue. It's a call to keep speaking out, to keep educating, and to ensure that the voices of those who suffered, and those who continue to feel the echoes, are heard loud and clear. This isn't about dwelling in the past, but about understanding how the past shapes our present and future. My hope is that by sharing these powerful reflections, we can encourage more dialogue and push for the recognition and justice that is so long overdue. It's a heavy burden, but the strength of our community ensures these truths will never be silenced.