The impact of slavery has always intrigued me since I was 8. I have often wondered what the world would look like today if the slave trade had never been. What would have been the shapes of families and communities in Africa? Would the effect on the west have been the same? The shape of the currency of respect for other races. The burden of the guilt, as an African, on whether or not my family were implicated in this nastiness of history. . The burden carried by the descendants of slaves. The fact that blacks of a lighter skin tone were given more respect and more readily accepted.

I looked out of the windows of Africa to appreciate the achievements, despite adversity, faced by the descendants of slaves in the west, and realised the great brain drain that slavery had been. I observed the mistrust at times between the descendants of both sides of this coin. I wondered how much of this was a political tool as opposed to the natural reaction to buried memory. Tribes in West Africa who still have issues with each other which contradict their individual histories. Who helped or turned a blind eye when the raiders came along. Who gained financially from those deal? As the ships left, the cursed that may have been rained on families on and tribes from the morbid cargo. Are these the scars that Africa carries now? Are these the burdens that the descendants carry? As I travelled more, I was fascinated by similarities in culture. Choice of colours and rhythm. Taste in foods and spices. Styles of dance and laughter. The fact that I could recognise the origins of some West Indian folk. The fact that at times, I could recognise the tribal origin of a face in Montego Bay. New Jersey or Kent, only to be told these folk were not African. At times, while in Africa, I would hear of the return of an American who had traced their roots back to a small family in Ghana. The natural rhythms of the embrace as they met. Bodies that recognised each other in movements and mannerisms. Family resemblances that time and pain had not shifted. Those reunions had their own eloquence. Both sides gained. Every one was forgiven and freed. And everyone left. Walking taller, feeling freer. Breaking curses and losing shackles. 

As a writer, I chose to work on my play from the point of view of understanding the whys, as opposed to finding the to blame. In this history of humanity, different people have fallen pray to others due to the different ethics and situations of those times. That is history.
It was wrong but it has happened. I cannot hold a man responsible for the wrongs of his ancestors, however with contemporary knowledge and wisdom, the continuity of such wickedness to humanity is unforgivable. I cannot change the past, (and I will not dare ask you to forget about it). I can however decide the degree the impact of those wicked times has on me. I can either be a victim of history or a triumph despite history.

I believe we ALL have these choices. Since all people have the responsibility of the upkeep of this one planet we share. I believe it is our duty and responsibility to care about and respect the humanity of our fellow custodians. Don't just move on, MOVE OUT of this mind set and do not allow it to dictate or limit the potential you harness. Just be a great human!

To God and to all our friends and family who have supported us on this journey, Thank you for all your sacrifices. In time, in love in money in advise and in kindness.  We thank you for believing in us and we will do our best to make you proud. Be a blessing and be blessed.
Best Love,

                       Yaw X