Joy Sigaud is a British author of Jamaican and a very mixed heritage, pick a few: African, Scottish, German, Indian, English, Irish. She writes short stories on everyday themes, things embedded in our subconscious yet pertinent and real. She also advocates the teaching of Black History in Schools and calls for accuracy and careful planning of the curriculum. She has been invited to feature as a guest on a number of radio stations and television for her views.
A Poem about a Jamaican’s journeywritten by J. Sigaud:
Jamaican, African, Or Just British?
Long Ago And Far Away
There is a world that exists No one knows about it They have civilisations, structures, tribes, hierarchies and wars Just like everywhere else
The continent is vast
newly discovered Landscapes varied and awesome, and yet Its beauty is recognised but by only a few of the adventurous The richness of the soil and the treasures that lie beneath are unnoticed
Who would dare to go inland
It is the people who become the commodities Try to find them now but you won’t
They are lost to that world…forever!
The Trade Winds Blow
An island of great and obvious beauty has risen up The surface of the soil is evidently good For cash crops, sugar, spices
The people have risen up, great in number The chains are removed Yet, little did they know they are no longer lost This is now home The odd African arrives from somewhere far away Don’t associate with him if you can help it he’s not one of us they say
These people now have a land of their own But do they really own it? Manage it at will A land of springs, woods and waters Rocks of dizzying heights with a sheer drop to the ocean Hidden waterfalls leading out to abundant seas
The port towns bustle Ships come and go from far away places Joyful sounding songs from the ships are left on the tongue Blow Billy Boy Blow
Yes the trade winds have blown And look what has blown in Tales of chains and shackles reach inland Told with romantic nostalgia Taught by rote
Could this be the lost of that land far away That land is long forgotten
Frequent tales of history orated through legends of how Two brothers arrived on a ship Made a small fortune which by now has dwindled That is how we got our name, or is it?
The Trade Winds are no more
The lost people make another move En mass to a land that is green and pleasant Filled with sights and sounds, structures And peoples of all diversities This is where we are
Here and now In the green and pleasant land Masters of literature Broken from a continent of literary masters of the western hemisphere
What is this place that people of so many diverse origins now call home A city of people who have prevailed through the millennia against all odds A remnant Who of us really knows the history And yet It is here that we first begin to learn the truth about our origins