Libretto
Overture
For Luther GrayChorus:
Of Three Wombs Born
We are not who you say we are
We live not by the name you know
We are born of the womb of The Eternal Flame
We are born of the womb of a mother of flesh
And we are born from the womb of wood, chains, cries and moans and blues
Blues, mystical blues
In time the sea will turn to ground
In time the fire will turn to snow
We are born of the womb of the Eternal Flame
Womb of flesh and womb of wood and blues – magical blues
We will return to the womb of the sky, never again
to weep, never again to die
Light to light we will all then be
At last our souls forever free
I sing the blues for my people
I sing the blues of a land
Basses:
Throw it – catch it - hold it - be it - never-never
I sing the blues of the Elders
Their blood still warm in the sand
I sing the blues of the fields
Where they slaved from night to day
I sing the blues of the words
That they never got a chance to say
Hamer (Fannie Lou) – Evers (Medgar) – Newton (Huey) – Rosa (Parks) – Malcolm (Little) – Martin (King) – Chaney (James) – Tubman (Harriet) – Stacey (Abrams) – LeBron (James) – Sarah (Collins Rudolph) – Booker (Cory) – Sonia (Sanchez) – Barber (William) – Opal (Tometi)
Basses:
Here now with us.
So I sing the blues of the ships
In whose wombs they rocked and rolled
I sing the blues of our children
Shot down before they ever get old
I sing the blues of my people
I sing the blues of their soul
I sing the blues of our people
Their stories will be told
Basses:
Live it, tell it.
I sing the blues of the oceans
Which hold their bones and cries
Basses:
Middle passage, bones and cries.
I sing the blues of our people
Their spirits still roam the skies
Basses:
Everlasting like the sky.
Celia (Cruz) – Toussaint (L’Ouverture) – Garvey (Marcus) – Yanga (Gaspar) – Racine (Mapou de Azor) – Zumbi (dos Palmares) – Pancho (Fierro) – Marley (Robert) – Edwidge (Danticat) Marquez (Francia) – Eva (Ayllon) – Euzhan (Palcy) – Paula (Herrera) – Ulrick (Jean-Pierre) – Victor (Emilio Dreke Cruz)
Basses:
Still with us, still in us.
Sopranos:
Breath is the pure gift of Love.
From the Eternal Flame of life and it will return to it
when once it leaves your noble house of flesh, bones
and time
Altos:
Breathe, I can’t breathe; I can’t breathe; I can’t breathe.
Life, I can’t breathe. Life, I can’t breathe (repeat)
Tenors:
Breathe, I can’t breathe. Life, breathe, Life, I can’t breathe; Life, I can’t breathe (repeat)
Basses:
Breathe, Life, throw it, catch it. Breathe. Life, I can’t breathe (repeat)
Choir:
We are of three wombs born, born.
Veil I: Ile - Home
For Kendrick Lamar
Choir:
Ile (ilay) REPEAT
Choir:
I will never leave you
I am your song
I am coming for you; I am your peace
I am your prophesy – your blood, your flesh and bone
I am your mother, your father, your sister, your brother
I am your salvation
I am your soul
I am your nation
I am your tongue
I am your freedom
I am your God
The Griot:
This garment I wear not of my name, strange to my songs, I no longer claim. Garment of my captor, garment of my pain, garment of my delusions, garment just the same. The garment of my ancestors I now seek to wear, bold in colour, free of a noose; at one with the wind. Rich with a language long stripped from my tongue. A garment woven of Kente, indigo and the memories of home.
Choir:
I love you. I love you.
Scene two: “The Griot”
Griot:
I see a time when the land is not crying.
I see a time when death is overcome with words and roots.
I see a time when bodies are dressed in earthen reds, and deep plant greens.
I see a time when the people did not dread the coming of another day
This I see, this I see and more.
I taste a time of yassar ganar and baskets full of darcase.
I taste a time of sedem and guyap, chere and chep.
I taste a time of fresh rains and thick black lips.
I taste a time of dust where once the feet of the elders stood.
This I taste, this I taste and more.
I smell a time of cedar rooms and violets along the veins of the Nile.
I smell a time of fresh ink on the papers in the books of Timbuktu.
I smell a time when the fires of Benin first revealed the spirits that lived in bronze and iron.
This I smell, this I smell and more.
I hear a time when bells, whistles and drums make bodies fly.
I hear a time when the griot and the kora write stories on the pages of the wind.
I hear a time when the elders speak things that only God could know.
This I hear, this I hear and more.
Scene One: “Atonement”
I feel a time when we are at peace with ourselves.
I feel a time when the children stand tall and strong, their bellies full of mboka, their minds full of the sky.
I feel a time of soft earth beneath our feet, new air in our lungs, and the full breast of our wives in the mouths of our children.
This I feel, this I feel and more.
Choir:
Ile, Ile, Ile
I have lived before there was time.
I have lived beyond the sickle of death.
I have lived between the night and the day.
I have lived before the greed of man and long after his fall.
This I have lived, this I have lived and more.
Choir:
Ile, Ile, Ile, Ile, Ile
Scene III: “Harvest”
Choir:
Olurun, the storehouse is full of corn, wheat and yams and darcase.
Once again, your love has prevailed over hunger and death.
So we dance this dance of life and we sing these sings in your praise. Thank you Spirits for this bounty.
Thank you for this harvest of life.
Composer Note
Traditionally, the Griot would sing the history of the tribe from its beginning to the present. He is in fact the equivalent of the county clerk’s office. In this case he does not sing because the knowledge of The Middle Passage is unknown to him. This knowledge is only known physically, spiritually and mentally by The Jonah People, The New Beings. And clearly Rodrick, being a member of The Tribe of Jonah, now becomes the Griot.
The spiritual symbology of the Griot and the drum is expressed in the symbol of The Jonah People, specifically in the two graphic lines which intersect the boat image connecting those who were lost (below the boat symbol) in The Middle Passage, with those who survived (those above the boat symbol). The tallest linear symbol above the boat represents the males who survived the Middle Passage. The shorter symbol next to it represents the females who survived. The tallest symbol below the ship represents the males who perished during the crossing. The shorter symbol represents the females who perished. In the ship there is communion between those who perished and those who survived. The ship then becomes symbolic of all such places wherein the People of Jonah and their ancestors fight to survive, places such as prisons, schools, courts and the society at large. Two simultaneous forces are now at play in the composition and in the world. One is the African past in all of its cultural and spiritual glory. Second, is the extraordinary past, present and future of The People of Jonah. Both histories are connected and are mutually dependent upon the other to survive and to flourish.
Veil II: They Swallowed the Ocean for Me
Please Note: This veil contains sounds of screaming indicating rape and torture in the belly of the ship as well as a depiction of one of the enslaved men taking his own life
Yemaya Deity:
I am with you, my children. From your death, there will come life. From your pain, from your blood, new realms are formed. In them you will be free. From three wombs born...
Ship’s Captain, George C. Stevens:
My Dear Mary,
The thought of you keeps me from the brink of absolute despair. Yet, given the dastardly truth of my profession, in the buying and selling of these strange black creatures, I gain some note of pride knowing that from such lucrative trade, our family has thrived to such a degree as to be held so highly in the eyes of our magnificent society.
I recently purchased one hundred of the pitiful souls from a Portuguese trader, at a considerable discount, given the superb physical qualities of the men. A number of the women are with child which, of course, greatly increases the potential profit at the auction block provided the offspring is not born during the voyage and succumbs to the unimaginable filth and squalor in which their mothers now linger. From time to time, we bring them up in small numbers from their hideous hole and afford them the mercy of what can come from a bucket of water, and a glimpse of god’s good sky.
I cannot comprehend, to any reasonable degree, as to how these poor creatures can survive such an ordeal as what they now face; in some cases for nine months or more. I am apt to find confidence in the fact that our most benevolent and merciful god will direct our decisions in matters concerning their fate. Were this not the case, he would not have afforded us such prosperous opportunities as have arrived from subduing them. I am inclined to believe that we were given the merciful task of freeing them from their former state of darkness.
In two days time the ship will reach the harbour of Portau-Prince, the most magnificent city my eyes have beheld. Its mansions rival those of our majestic southern England. Sugar cane plantations stretch as far as the eyes can see. Truly, it is aptly named, “The Pearl of The Caribbean.”
There I will gladly sell sixty of what I have found to be the most obstinate of the slaves to Monsieur Henri who, I am certain, will receive a superb price for them at the auction block. I will deliver to him as well two crates of wooden and metal masks and other artifacts confiscated during the raiding of the villages in Africa. I have two crates to deliver to Professor Highbridge, at Oxford, upon my return to London as well, for which I will be handsomely paid. I fail to see the undaunted interest or the value in such obvious idolatry as these objects seem to be. The remainder of the poor souls, I will sell during my stops in Jamaica, Mexico and New Orleans. With funds received from such efforts, I will purchase barrels of molasses to sell in New York.
Enough of such trivialities; barring no mishaps, I shall arrive in time for our dear Willam’s commencement ceremony at Oxford. Such a splendid achievement it is. A fine barrister he will make, indeed. Give Sarah and Michael my warm regards.
Until my much anticipated arrival home, I reluctantly close.
Sincerely, your husband,
Captain George C. Stevens
Enslaved African, Boukman:
Tenga, have you abandoned us? Ancestors do you no longer pray for us? What have we done to see what no eyes were made to see; hear what no ears were made to hear; smell what no nose was made to smell; taste what no tongue was made to taste and feel what no soul was made to feel. It is a pain greater than death.
On the day of Asase’s eighteenth year of birth, she and the village awakened to the first glow of the sun. Her mother showed me the birthday beads to be wrapped around her waist. Before running out into the courtyard towards the talking drums and the laughter of her sons, she stopped for the first time, ran back to me, and looked deep into my soul with those full moon eyes of hers and whispered into my ear, ‘I love you poppa.’ The beauty of the morning pulled her young body out of the doorway of our home. It was the last I saw of her. The last time I held my wife. The last sight of my seed before the evil came. In a cloud of red dust, blood and screams she disappeared.
Now swallowed up in the belly of this wooden fish, I am kept alive by the dream that my arms will once again be her nest. The heaven that we lived, will be no more. Something even rare to the gaze of the sun, moon and stars has been set loose into the universe. Something unholy to the trees, grass and oceans. Something which steals life from the air. A new evil has come from the bowels of man; one that will pollinate the path of beings for ages to come.
Choral Text:
Cord of light, of sound, of love
Connected to the placenta of God
Now come once more to feed us the food of Eternal life
Cord of light, of sound, of love
Connected to the placenta of God
Now come once more to feed us the food of Eternal life
Marabout:
To the universe I now speak. To all that lives beneath the
sky I now declare. To the immortal seed free of these
chains I proclaim; from our collective fear a new courage
will prevail. From our shattered lives and broken spirits, a new joy will come. And, from this, our womb of horror, a New Being will be born from whose spirit and soul will come a force that will heal nations and reveal to them the true face of heaven.
Enslaved African Male:
My dear brother, If we drink enough water, we could drain the ocean and walk back home.
Choir:
Ahh...
Composer Note
The first sounds are the cries of an African Crow and the sound of the keel of a wooden slave ship cutting through the ocean. (30 seconds)
This African crow, the most intelligent of all known birds, is a witness to what is about to occur, and continues to occur in a world where some humans have come to think that they are not its steward, but its ruler.
The orchestra drum is the keel of the slave ship repeatedly crashing into the ocean. To some of the enslaved it becomes a metronome of unceasing terror. To others, it is spiritually alchemized into the Djun-djun, and subsequently into the drum set of Max Roach. To all of the enslaved, this beat was certainly felt and absorbed to the point where much-needed hums, cries, and moans were formed into a sacred and healing music. A music created by members of tribes who did not speak the same language thus making clear that music, in this case, achieved what the Tower of Babel could not.
The ultimate music classroom of the Jonah People is the womb of the slave ship. And no music since the sailing of the first slave ship is unaffected by that which occurred in that wooden womb room of horror and of hope.
Learn more about the symbols through out The Jonah People: A Legacy of Struggle & Triumph here.
Veil III: Searching - "Na Lelakole"
“Music is everywhere. When you listen closely enough, you can even hear it inside of you; even in the movement of the clouds”.
Scene One: “Reparations”
Please Note: This scene graphically depicts the dehumanizing of Africans as they are sold into slavery, including the disrobing of an enslaved male and the whipping of Asase.
Choir:
No rest here; only the pain, only the pain, the pain
When can we have rest
When will this hell be done
Slave Auctioneer:
Well, mesdames et messieurs, as we near the end of our auction, I want to thank you for your patience and for making this the most profitable auction that I can remember in the selling of these creatures.To that end, I have saved the best of the young bucks and fertile winches for now.
The last of this lot of fine human flesh is ready and able to increase your fortune, and to work from sun up to sun down in your mansions and your fields of cane.
Here, let’s start with this one.
Oh, don’t be misled gentlemen, he is the strongest of all the bucks. The strongest I have ever seen. However, he had to be taught the lesson of subjugation by his former Jamaican master, Sir Winston Hightower. He was caught one time too many reading his Koran, it was said to have been, and he was stripped naked and staked upon the ground whereupon Sir Winston had the wretched book burned to ashes upon his chest. Thus, he acquired the name, Boukman.
So, what do I hear for Mr. Boukman? Let’s start with 300.
Three, three, three, three hundred, now four, four, four,
four hundred. That’s it!
Choir:
“When can we have rest?”
“When will this hell be done?”
Can I get five hundred? Five, five, five hundred for this savage scholar?
Now, Six hundred, six, six, six!
Choir:
“When can we have rest?”
“When will this hell be done?”
Slave Auctioneer:
Oh, come now! He is as strong as an ox. Now, seven
hundred, seven, seven, seven, seven. Good!
Now, do I hear eight hundred? Eight, yes, eight.
There’s eight, eight, eight, eight, eight. There’s lots of
little nigger bucks still to come from those loins.
Can I get 9, 900, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9? Now we’re talking!
Let’s have 1000. Look at that muscle tissue.
He even has all of his teeth!
Come gentlemen, can I hear 1500, 15, 15?
Let’s have 1500 for this magnificent stud.
Ok, going once, twice…
SOLD to Monsieur Henri Dauphin for
Fifteen hundred francs.
Madame Dauphin:
And what shall you name him, my good husband?
Monsieur Dauphin:
I will brand him with my name and subdue him with my god. And, he and
his descendants will fight to the death to keep them both.
With my whip, I will own his body and
with my name and my god, I will own his soul.
Choir: “DONE”
Slave Auctioneer:
And now we’ve come to the cream of
the crop, Mesdames et Messieurs.
Let’s start with six hundred francs for
her, Mesdames et Messieurs. Six!
Asase:
GOD, come
There is no time
There is no death
Stars are not blind
Winds are now still
GOD, come
Chord of my womb
Sound of my heart
Sulphur and Iron
Sunlight and Sea
GOD, come
Eye of the Lamb
Tongue of the beast
GOD, come
Mother now gone
Father now dust
Never to die
Never to die
Never to die
Never to die
Never to die
Never to die
Choir:
You cannot destroy me; my GOD lives
within me
You cannot destroy me; my GOD lives
within me
Sopranos and Altos:
You cannot destroy me; my GOD walks within me
You cannot destroy me; my GOD speaks within me
You cannot destroy me; my GOD sings within me
You cannot destroy me; my GOD weeps within me
Tenors:
Neva, neva, neva, neva
Bass:
When will you learn?
When will you learn?
When will you learn?
When will you learn?
Choir:
You cannot destroy me;
my GOD lives within me
You cannot destroy me;
my GOD lives within me
You cannot destroy me;
my GOD lives within me
You cannot destroy me;
my GOD lives within me
Slave Auctioneer:
Six, six, six, six hundred; six hundred?
Six hundred. Six hundred. Come now!
Six hundred. Six. Good! Now seven!
Seven hundred. Seven. Seven. Seven
hundred. Seven. Seven. Seven. Seven.
Seven hundred. Come now! Come!
Seven hundred! Seven. Seven. Seven.
Seven hundred. Seven hundred.
Oh, come now gentlemen. Look at
those legs; strong and sturdy! Good.
There’s seven. Now, can I get eight?
Eight, eight, eight, eight. Let’s have
eight hundred. Oh, gentlemen, just
imagine how many more can come
from this fertile young breeding
machine. Oh, she’s ready for it, too!
Oh, come on now ladies and gentlemen. There’s 800!
She will keep you warm when you’re cold and lonely.
Now, 1000. 1000 francs!
There’s 1000. Now 1200.
Said to be the best cook of them all.
12. Come, come. Now, do I hear 12,
1200? 12. 12. 1200. 12. 12. 12.
Do I hear 12? She’s worth it, ladies and gentlemen.
Said to be the best cook of them all.
Come, come.
Come Now there’s the 12. Now 2,
2000. 2. 2. 2.
Last call for 2000 francs.
2, 2000 going once, twice…
Slave Auctioneer:
Sold to Monsieur Henri for 2000 francs.
Asase:
Kunanamui, thank you for gathering up the stars and creating with them a
path for my soul to see what my eyes are now too filled with the dust of this world to see. Upon this ground which holds the weeping blood of my children and the feet of those now strangers to your love, you have chosen to crawl with me and guide me toward your eternal vision, a timeless, painless realm of being.
To follow you is to become you
To follow you is to become you
To follow you is to become you
Where now am I to go on this endless journey of pain? My fate but a fading ember before me as I am now given to traverse the shadows of this painful world.
Choir:
Divine, (4x)
Divine light of GOD
For pa wor wor elle
(I will never leave you)
Composer Note
As Asase crawls toward Henri, she is beaten with a whip by the assistant auctioneer. Each time he strikes her, he looks at Henri as if to receive instructions, for obviously the bite of the whip is visibly destroying the flesh Henri now owns. Henri looks on in silence and complete awe for never in his privileged so-called civilized life, has he witnessed such an act of unbridled courage as was crawling on the ground towards him. This act did not only challenge his safely-concocted Catholic indoctrination, it made him question its validity. Moving towards him was something he could not find in his bible, or in the other holy grails of literature which lined the gilded walls of his massive library. This was not God conveniently tucked away in the pages of a book. This was not Jesus hanging on the cross of those who had the power to write history as they saw fit. Moving towards him was the same fire which consumed the flesh of his heroine, Joan of Arc. Crawling towards him was his own cross, his own crucifixion, his own chance for resurrection and for salvation. God was not only moving at him, but for him as well. To his mind such things were foreign. To his soul there were lingering signs of familiarity, for when her pilgrimage ended and she reached out and touched the tip of his right boot, he immediately raised four fingers in the direction of the auctioneer and purchased her two sons, who were then allowed to run to the aid of her bleeding body.
Scene Two: “Red Coffee”
Asase:
Oh, maman Fatiman!
Fatiman:
It will not be long, my daughter.
We are not alone or forgotten by the
God of life. It will not be long before
the blood of freedom will run red in
the fields, rivers and streams. Soon it
will run red in the cups of those who
sip away, without care, the blood of our lives.
Song: “Red Coffee”
Lead singer:
Is it sweet enough
Your ebony drink
Black gold in your porcelain cup
Choir:
Can you taste my sweat
Can you taste my pain
Lead singer:
The cane no longer drinks
The rain from the sky
It has become addicted
To the sweat of my brow
Choir:
Can you taste my herbs
Can you taste my smoke
Lead singer:
Upon the blade of my machete
The dance of sun and moon never ends
Choir:
Can you taste my skin
Can you taste my bone
Lead singer:
In my hand it sings the song of steel
Against cane, wind and bone
Choir:
Can you taste my dreams
Can you taste my tears
Lead singer:
The cane now grows
Thick and tall like trees
Climbing up from the fertile soil
Mixed with the blood of me
Can you taste my life
Can you taste my soul
Choir:
Can you taste my blood
Can you taste my LIFE
Can you taste my life
Can you taste my soul
Can you taste my blood
Can you taste my life
Can you taste my sweat
Can you taste my pain
Can you taste my herbs
Can you taste my smoke
Can you taste my skin
Can you taste my bone
Can you taste my dreams
Can you taste my tears
Can you taste my blood
Can you taste my life
Entire Choir:
Can you taste my sweat
Can you taste my pain
Can you taste my herbs
Can you taste my smoke
Can you taste my skin
Can you taste my bone
Can you taste my dreams
Can you taste my tears
Can you taste my blood
Can you taste my life
Can you taste my blood
Can you taste my life
Can you taste my life
Can you taste my soul
Scene Three: “The Last Supper”
Choir:
Live now.
Silas, the eldest son of Asase:
Mother, it is only Monday and you have cooked meat and rice. There are mangoes and bread. You have made a feast. You look more beautiful than the sky, yet you can’t stop crying.
What’s wrong, mama? I am scared. Mother, what is to become of us? You are all we have in this world.
Choir:
Who knows the last meal to share?
Asase:
I must leave this place, my angels…so that you might live.
Choir:
Live now.
Silas:
But mother, we would die without you!
You are all that we have. What…do you
mean? We are coming with you, right?
Asase:
I must go alone, Silas. Where I am to
go; what I am to face, even the beast
could not endure.
Choir:
Mercy!
Asase:
Children, you must be strong.
Let us now eat this meal. It is a meal of
two worlds; the world to pass and the world yet to come.
This meat is of the world to pass.
And this meat, which I will now share
with you, is the meat of the world yet
to come, the undying world. And, it
will sustain you both in your time of joy
and in your time of pain.
Choir:
Who knows the last time. Live the life that is now.
Asase:
That meat is your name, which is your
blood and the history that lives in it.
It is the name which was given to you
from the mouth and from the soul of
your kind father.
Choir:
Blood of truth.
Asase:
Kerkula is your true name, my sacred
son. It means, you have come from
greatness. It is the name given by your
father and was the name given to him
by his father, the chief musician of our
nation, who possessed the power to
play ancient parables upon the drums.
His spirit of song could harness the
power of both the sun and the moon,
the lion and the butterfly. He would
sing words that would heal our people.
The power of his music helped to
guide you into this world. And, it will
never leave you and will live in your
seed yet to come.
Whisper this name when you labor
without hope in the cane fields; when
the flame of life grows dim in your
soul. Go to the river alone and scream,
and shout and cry out this name.
There your father, your people and I
will always be.
You are now the father and it is your
duty to give your newborn brother an
ancestral name to protect him as well.
And you, my tall piece of heaven, it
is the name Flomo which your good
father sang into you when you were
still in my womb. Taller than the sky
you are. Each time you look upon it,
there we will be to help sculpt the
clouds and entice the stars.
My sons, who I love without measure,
never forget your names. Each
time you speak them our people
will live. Beyond the whip, they will
live. Beyond treachery, they will live.
Beyond death, they will live. Live! One
day your seed will come for those
names. They will need them to stay
alive as they fight against the plans of
the wicked.
And you will know me by the
reflection of the sunlight each time it
kisses the moon. With this light I will
always cover you with my spirit and my love.
Choir:
Now is eternal.
Asase:
Now, let us finish this the last of our
meals together in this world, whose
days are numbered.
Choir:
Yes, you are the single mind source
made from the seed of perpetual light
and sound.
See now
Feel now
Be now
Smile now
Love now
Pray now
Dance now
Sing now
Shout now
Paint now
Plant now
Stand now
Seek now
Know now
Breathe now
Live now (4x)
Tenors:
Now is the gift of forever
Make peace with the everlasting light
within you
For the gift of now is all we have
Choir:
Now is the gift of forever
Make peace with the everlasting light
within you
For the gift of now is all we have
Henri Dauphin:
Where is your mother?
Silas:
She ran away. Why do you want her?
Henri Dauphin:
To beat her! You stay with them while I find her.
Choir:
The sky is not big enough to hold the
suffering of our people and it could
never be big enough to hold my love
for you.
Now is the gift of forever
Make peace with the everlasting light
within you for the gift of now is all we have.
Silas:
Mother, mother, please help me.
Help me, please come back.
Choir:
Who knows the last time to break bread
Who knows the last time to embrace
Asase:
Remember my son, when the pain of
the world comes for you, cry, shout
out your name and there I will be.
Then the hands of your grandfather
will float like black butterflies upon
the skin of his sacred drum.
Silas:
Kerkula – Kerkula – Kerkula
Scene Four: “Wind and Bones”
Please Note: Scenes four and five depict the silhouette of a hanging corpse.
Choir:
Searching for the peace
Asase:
O wind, you are the only one who
chooses to dance with me now that
my feet can no longer follow the
rhythm of the drum, now that my
mother’s comb has fallen from my
hair, and my children are left alone to
wander this brutal land.
In this, the last dance of my bones you
have looked beyond the red stains
on my dress, the missing smile of my
perfume. Lead me as you will, but
gently I pray, so that my father is able
to take me from this place and lay me
unbroken in my eternal bed of rest.
I have no choice but to follow you. I
can hear the birds pleading for you to
leave me, to find another partner, so
that they might have their turn.
Choir:
Of three wombs made.
Asase:
It will not be long, father before our
people are free. I love you and I now
wait for the miracle of your arms.
Choir:
Forever born of three wombs
Composer Note
The power of the dream compels Boukman to escape the plantation and begin his search for her. During the voyage of the Middle Passage, Boukman and the Marabout were chained side by side at which time Boukman spoke of the destruction of his village, family and the capture of his daughter and two children. The marabout then shared with Boukman the prophesy that freedom would come to his people and before that realization of freedom, his arms would hold his daughter again.
Scene Five: “Rebirth”
Boukman:
Now I will come for you, my sacred daughter. In the
dream, you said that the spirit of the Ancestors would be
my guide, and promised that the fireflies would light my path to you.
Have you seen my beautiful daughter?
Choir:
Womb of pure light
Light of eternal realm
Boukman:
Oh daughter, your mother, her face more beautiful
than the Sun, chose death over the rapist’s sperm. She
greeted the blade of their sword like a falling leaf would greet the wind.
The marabout, flawless in his vision, told us long ago
of these times of broken souls; when the fire of human hatred and greed would steal the wind and scatter us to the ends of the Earth. A timeless season of pain our dowry would become and would last until the awakening of the New Being who would once again, teach the ancient songs to the world. Songs that would give rest to the stolen souls who seek to come up from the depths of the oceans, the rivers, lakes and seas. Those who seek to leave their watery graves and have their stories be told; their nations restored; their God acknowledged and praised.
The marabout went on to prophesize, my eternal daughter, that until such things are manifested, the world will not know peace. And the tears of those whose souls continue to weep in the waters of the world will be too much for the bosom of the land to hold.
Have you seen my daughter, her eyes more beautiful than freedom?
Choir:
Where
Of three wombs made
Boukman:
Even death could not keep you from the warmth of my arms.
Scene Six: “Bois Caiman” (Alligator Forest)
Please Note: This scene depicts a battle during the Haitian Revolution and contains sounds that simulate gunfire.
Female voice:
Libretad!
Boukman:
No force can keep me from my peace
My freedom
This I proclaim with my heart, hands, soul
with my life
My death
By my divine right to be free
Choir:
[Shouts words denoting freedom in African languages]
Composer Note
The following words are scrolled across house screen with remnants of the battle smoke still wafting on stage.
“The Haitian Revolution was the first successful armed rebellion against European domination in the world. It forced the nation of France to sell its lucrative and strategic land holding called, The Louisiana Purchase to Thomas Jefferson.
When this land acquisition was surveyed by Lewis and Clark, it immediately doubled the size of the United States of America. The power of this revolution made France and America implement policies that today have rendered Haiti from being the richest nation in the western hemisphere to one of the poorest in the world. No member of the Tribe of Jonah goes adversely unaffected by these policies as well”.
Veil IV: The New Being
Scene One: “So many Fields, So many Fortunes, So many Souls”
Grand Father:
Our Dear Heavenly Father, once again we gather to offer you our thanks for your goodness and your mercy. You saw fit to wake us up again today, in our right mind.
Field Hands:
Yes, Lord!
Grand Father:
You put food on our table.
Field Hands:
Thank you, Jesus.
Grand Father:
Clothes on our backs and joy and love in our hearts.
Field Hands:
Thank you, Lord.
Grand Father:
Only you know what is to come of us, and of every man.
Field Hands:
Amen. Amen.
Grand Father:
Only you could heal the scars on our backs and on our troubled souls.
Walk with us, Lord; only your grace could turn our pain
and our suffering into the songs of heaven.
Field Hands:
Thank you, Lord. Thank you; thank you.
Grand Father:
Songs sweeter than milk and honey.
Field Hands:
Oh yes, yes sir!
Grand Father:
Songs more powerful than the sun.
Field Hands:
Mighty, mighty, mighty! Yes lord, speak it, speak it, speak it.
Grand Father:
Songs that are greater, much greater than the devil’s plan.
Field Hands:
Lord God Almighty!
Grand Father:
You made the sky to be free, Lord.
Field Hands:
Yes you did; yes you did, Lord.
Grand Father:
You made the birds and the whales and the turtles and the lions to roam free.
Field Hands:
Yes, master, yes Lord.
Grand Father:
And, Almighty God, I know you made us, your children who love you and praise you. I know your will is for us to be free.
Field Hands:
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!
Grand Father:
And so we gonna hold on to your unchanging hand.
Field Hands:
Yes Lord!
Grand Father:
Till that freedom day comes and washes over us like a mighty storm of rain.
Field Hands:
Thank you, thank you.
Grand Father:
I just want to thank you, Lord. Thank you for your goodness, your mercy and your love. We pray these words in the mighty name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. AMEN.
Amen. Help us, Lord.
Susie:
I am the power to make things right.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power of the day and the night.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power of the moon and the sea.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power that will always be.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power of stone and sand.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power of the sky and the land.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power of death and of strife.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power, the power of life.
Choir:
POWER
Choir:
I am the power to make things right. I am the power of the day and the night. I am the power of the moon and the sea. I am the power that will always be.
Susie:
I am the power of stone and of sand.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power of the sky and the land.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power of death and strife.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
I am the power.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
The all power!
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
The power!
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
Living power.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
Holy Ghost power.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
The all power.
Choir:
POWER
Susie:
Of
Choir:
Of
Susie:
Of my life
Choir:
Of my life
Scene Two: “Minton’s Playhouse, 1950s”
Master of Ceremonies:
Welcome ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming out again to witness music history here at Minton’s Playhouse. Without further delay, please join me in welcoming these five innovating geniuses of sound.
Trumpeter:
Greetings ladies and gentlemen, it is always beautiful to see you and to play for you. Here is something special we hope you will enjoy. I composed it while contemplating the gravitational pull of the sun upon the planets, and upon human thought. The tonality is of course rooted in the Blues.
Composer Note
The art form known as Jazz, as was played in Minton’s Playhouse, represents the highest plane of physical, mental and spiritual function. It is no less than the capturing and the subsequent deciphering of matter into a form of sound that is present in all of creation.
Scene Three: “Prophesy”
Seer:
O Creator of us all, who do you say that we are?
Those and the descendants of those stolen from Africa, chained in a wooden womb of terror and shipped to all lands of the earth to live and to die as slaves. I ask that you speak to me the essence, the aura, the bone, and the marrow of you.
Choir:
Free!
Creator:
Like Jonah you are. In the womb of a ship, he like you, wrestled with both his faith and his fate. His ship was followed by seagulls. Your ship was followed by sharks. And you are to never forget that those and the descendants of those whose ships were followed by sharks are born of three wombs; the womb of me, the womb of a mother and the womb of a ship. And from such wombs has come the new being. Those like you whose only desire is to overwhelm the world with beauty.
Seer:
Those born of three wombs are now dying and suffering as never before, my Lord. They are set upon in the schools, in the concrete bowels of prisons. They are even slaughtered in the houses built to honor and worship you. Greater grows their suffering by the hour it grows. Make straight their way. Make clear their path out of this bondage. With the sum of my life, I beg you, Creator of all, to show me what it is I am to do.
Creator:
They are to seek the name, the face and the ways of the first Mother,
whose flesh has yet to rot, whose blood is yet like the wind. From her spiritual breasts they must now feed. Her wisdom will free them. And, they are to seek the name, the face and the ways of the first man whose flesh has yet to rot and whose blood is yet like the wind to heal themselves, to make whole their suffering. This I give them to do. They are to go to the land called Alabama. There they will find the bones and the spirits of those last to come by way of a wooden womb followed by sharks. And this place, they should all care for as they would care for the air in their lungs. There they should gather, all of them, from lands far and near. This they should do each season at the first light of day. There they are to pray and sing and dance and look into the faces, and into the hearts of one another and be reminded of the wealth of their souls and their suffering will be cared for by the luminous bones lying beneath their feet. And they will be transformed. And they will thrive as a people never before.
Here is your sign; the sign of your tribe, the tribe of Jonah. It is the sign of a ship carrying your people. Above it are those who survived the passage, both male and female. Below it are those who perished, both male and female. Yet, they are joined forever by way of perfect will and by the womb of spirit, flesh and wood. And this prayer is given to them upon greeting each other in whatever land they might live and whatever tongue they might speak. It is a prayer of both memory and healing.
“The sky is not big enough to hold the suffering of our people. And it could never be big enough to hold my love for you.”
Scene Four: “Healing”
Seer:
When I look at you I can see the life of me. I am your smile. I am your pain. I am your cry. We are one by way of the oceans our fathers were made to cross. The milk from the breasts of our mothers holds the same power of song, of history, of beauty and of grace.
At last we meet, our kindred souls in this sacred space made and kept by the reverent bones of those last to come by way of chains, greed and wooden ships.
We, from three wombs made, have long fed the world with our blood, our mind and our love. So, let us come each year to this our holy ground and rejoice and heal and feast upon the miracle of our lives.
Sopranos and Altos:
The truth lies at the base of your brain.
The light, the dark, the gift, the sum, the proof of life
Of three wombs made.
Tenors:
Never give up.
We will never give up.
We can never give up.
The proof of life
Of three wombs made.
Basses:
Know the womb from which you came.
Never will you be the same.
Skies will then smile.
Trees will dance.
Peace will then claim all you know.
There will be no hell to fear.
There will be no wasted tear.
Then you will know Heaven now.
Life to live.
Life to die.
Of three wombs made.
Blues Singer:
The sky is not big enough to hold the
suffering of our people.
I said the sky is not big enough to
hold the suffering of our people and it
could never be big enough to hold my
love for you.
Hannibal Lokumbe © 2020
Composer Note
Every year at sunrise on the 17th of July, Hannibal and others gather in the Old Plateau Cemetery located in AfricaTown, Alabama. There they celebrate the lives of the last of the Jonah People to be kidnapped from Africa and taken by ship to any place in the world. This ceremony is done to establish the Old Plateau Cemetery as the holy site, the MECCA or the Wailing Wall of and for The tribe of Jonah.
Please feel free to join in this annual ceremony honoring the lives of Matilda “Redoshi” McCrear, Cudjoe “Kazoola” Lewis and the other 108 survivors of the Clotilda, the last slave ship to transport enslaved people from the continent of Africa.