This love letter is part of a series written in response to the United States’ treatment of Haitian migrants seeking asylum at the US border.
By Kim Russell
To our Haitian brethren,
We are heartbroken to see the despair you are in.
Humbly, you braved the elements of Mother Nature, only to be faced with the disastrous nature of humans…
We are all born to inhabit this earth,
Yet somehow your God-given right to call any space between the Sun & the land
It is your God-given right to reside anywhere the Sunsets & the Moonrise,
The people inherit the earth; nature has no connection to government administration,
But somehow your paths are under strict dictation
Your liberties mimic incarceration
Your resources at its limitation
Yet, you have been the epitome of adaptation…
We the people, feel your frustration.
Our hearts are racing,
Our blood is stirring,
Our eyes are burning from the sting of tears threatening to fall…
Kile’ Li Fini? (When does it end?)
How dare your equilibrium be made into a trend?
The only tic toc should be the sound of the world’s clock counting down to your steadfast refuge.
You are more than a Hashtag…
More than a fundraiser,
You are a trailblazer.
No news cap can capture your history…
The 1st free & Black republic in the world since 1804
You rose from the ashes of war
Still rich in resources; still high in morals
You were freedom personified
Yet your boldness has been crucified.
Your character has been demonized
Your village was pillaged
Your economy faces eternal restitution
Is that the price for your triumphant Revolution?
And though the new Revolution is being televised,
The world is not incentivized to do right by you.
The humble ask for asylum has been met with whips & chains; ships morphed into airplanes
Heads should be bowed in shame,
For the more things change, the more they full circle to the same
Kile’ li fini? (When does it end?)
We are in 2021, with a variable change of none…
Where are the flowers at your feet?
Where are your libations?
Where are the raised altars in veneration of Louverture and Dessalines?
Destitution is no fit for you King, nor for my fellow Queens.
Our Republic is cold as ICE, and we are saddened to see you receive the cold shoulder…
The world is acting as spectators, watching from the mezzanine
A villainous show, with no justice scene…
Dear brethren, if nothing else is to be done,
Tap into your power & call forth your God Gene
Evoke the Ancestors and remind them you have Spirit team
With Warrior Angels that move beyond the decorum of nicely veiled words & pleading letters
Your blood carry traces of silver & gold; your melanin is a treasure
And whenever the world acts as if it knows no better…
Bondye aji e li pa pale (God acts, he doesn’t speak)
N’ap priye pou ou (We are praying for you)