For trespassing Africa the Motherland, no charge

For disturbing my peace, no charge

For capturing me, no charge

For destroying families, no charge

For shipping me across the oceans, no charge

For stripping me of my language, no charge

For prohibiting my customs, no charge

For violating my way of life, no charge

For not housing me properly, no charge

For traumatizing my children, no charge

For the murder of those lost at sea, no charge

For the unpaid labor forced on me, no charge

For lack of rest and recreation, no charge

For lack of food, no charge

For lack of education, no charge

For lack of health care, no charge

For the lashes and abuse, no charge

For the insults and disrespect, no charge

For the enduring torture, no charge

For the rape of women and children, no charge

For delayed so-called freedom, no charge

For so-called freedom without compensation, no charge

For oppression that endures, no charge

For the racism, no charge

For the discrimination, no charge

For the lack of reparation, no charge

For lack of respect, no charge

For lack of employment opportunities, no charge

For lack of fair housing, no charge

For lack of equal justice, no charge

For the lack of voting rights, no charge

For the reality of voter suppression, no charge

For the lack of economic justice, no charge

For the lack of social and cultural justice, no charge

For your unwillingness to listen, no charge

For your unwillingness to act, no charge

For your unwillingness to see and hear, no charge

For the continued suffering, no charge

For enabling the hate, no charge

For not seeing me, no charge

For killing me, no charge

For all of this and more, no charge

Emancipation, honestly

You got yours

Mine is still pending

Glenn Schmidt,

For the Ancestors,

St. Eustatius

Dear Editor,

  No one asks to be born. It happens. It might be planned to some degree but there is little we have control over. Time. Place. Race? Orientation. Limbs. Human. Life. Death. Beauty. Poor. Rich. Short. Tall. Inequality. Ad infinitum. Sometimes we are born into luck; at other times, less; most times, a lot less. Predictably too many times. That is the tragedy of life; it happens not only when you are born.

  So the idea of birth and belonging is a dubious ideal. But yet we must, limitly, for there is an interconnectedness of and with humanity, one recognizes (or should) each other – that is our existence, a social contract of sorts, our humanness, our destiny, our ability to avoid interconnectedness, our ability to think, to care, to empathize, to hate, to love, to destroy, in this Anthropocene.

  Our capacity and capability to exist has taken millions of years, from walking on our hands and feet to developing another artificial intelligent species – Sophia. There is much that evolved on in our brain, which we take for granted, because it took centuries to create and cultivate from various homo species, animals, atoms, and neurons. This complexity allows us to not only to understand but also to reflect.

  Try as one might, in spite of all this developed brain of millions of neurons, and the grand power of our existence and the ability to use language in its many forms, and to think (in)finitely, (though mostly we cannot know what we do not or cannot know). How can it not be a wonder that we live in such a world as we do.

  Given that existence, a particular conclusion is that we lead lives of different tragedies. And trajectories; it is only fitting then that we try hard to lessen these tragedies as much as we can.

  Lately, in different instances, there have been revolving tragedies. Tragedy after tragedy that could and should be lessened, if only there were little instances of not only kindness and empathy but interference and action on a personal, societal, institutional, and governmental levels. No one or nothing is left without blame. We are handful. But ultimately, all four are guilty, for tragedies continue unabated, generational.

  From the different crimes to the sexual and/or physical abuse, these are not the only ones though; there are many ills of society: poverty, discrimination, climate/environmental degradation, gender inequality, health care, media, ambition, overpopulation, immigration, bullying, technology, depression, racism, drug/alcohol addiction, abuse, obesity, hunger, illness, and ultimately – weaponized dissent.

  The effects of these tragedies are compounded, through the generations. Many times, it’s a revolving door. Someone has to shut the door. This could happen in various forms. If not the abused, who was previously abused will become another abuser. The thief will become the bigger thief, the abused becomes the abuser. Tragedies manifested in different forms. The consequences of tragedies persist. Hardly ever is there a regression. The logical conclusion is obvious.

  So the consequential pain of these societal ills and tragedies is felt deeply every day by our mothers, fathers, grandparents, sons, daughters, cousins, uncles, aunts, friends, and strangers. The hope of a just and moral society is that we try to get out of life unscathed by these tragedies. But this is an impossibility. The question is what is possible?

  If we don’t recognize the tragedies in their many forms, in the guise of the different and desperate lives around us, these instances will continue to happen – unabated. We have to live, however, up to the ideals of the rights and responsibilities of the existential presence.

  If not, in the end, the tragedy of life may not be life itself but to recognize the self in others.

Pedro de Weever

Dear Editor,

  In recent weeks we learned of the cries of many nationals abroad who were denied the opportunity to return home on vacation. The reason given was to protect the island from the COVID-19 pandemic. I myself returned home very recently from a working visit and had to go into quarantine. I did not make this an issue seeing the policy in place and I’m not vaccinated.

  However, time and again we see various persons are allowed to come and work, participate in meetings with government officials while they are in quarantine under the so-called essential worker label. As an elected official I raised the question on numerous occasions: if members of the Island Council, the highest elected body of the land, don’t fall on the essential worker status. In a discussion with one of the leading policy-makers for this COVID-19 pandemic, I was told that if requested that I can be granted the relevant permission in line of my function to take part in meetings with the relevant adopted protocol. Over a week ago, since my return from the Netherlands, via the officer of the Registrar of the Island Council, I made such a request and this was denied by the powers that be.

  What I find a double standard is that late last year and most recently we saw that State Secretary Knops at the height of the pandemic was allowed under a special protocol to visit the Island for various meetings. He also visited different projects where he interacted with several persons, and at the time we did not begin the vaccination process on our island. Recently he visited and sat in meetings with the Island Council and without a mask and that was okay. During the very same meeting with the Island Council, he was asked if he had taken the vaccine and he said no because this was done by age groups.

  Today again we see members of the College for Financial Supervision visiting the Island and meeting with the Island Council, among others, and this seemingly is normal. Whether they are fully vaccinated or not, the point is they came from high risk countries and could have contracted the virus.

  Are we to conclude that the government is measuring with two different yardsticks? What is good for the goose should be good for the gander. Is government busy promoting a South Africa apartheid culture on this small island?

  July 1 we celebrated 158 years of emancipation. Are we truly emancipated or still trapped in a mental colonial paralysis?

Clyde van Putten

Island Councilman St. Eustatius

Dear Editor,

  I read somewhere and I quote: “Studying history will sometimes disturb you, studying history will sometimes upset you, studying history will sometimes make you furious and if studying history always makes you feel proud and happy, you probably aren’t studying history”. And so it also is with telling stories about our history. Some of those stories will disturb or even infuriate us, but the stories must be told.

  I will read a passage from the book Statia Silhouettes, in which the late Charles Arnold speaks about Mr. Moore and the Golden Rock Plantation:

  “The slave master that we knew most about is a fellow by the name of Moore. He owned Golden Rock at the time. After freedom – which the Dutch Government I think paid at the equivalent of more or less 2,500 dollars for the freedom of every slave on the island. And this Mr. Moore, they had a fellow by the name of Jim. And he used to take pleasure in seein’ ’em beat Jim every day. And the whipper – they also had a slave whipper. So, a fellow, also, my father family Harkless, Harkless, he was the whipper.”

  While talking with local historian Walter Hellebrand about our history, he drew my attention to the old records.  It is actually documented that the Golden Rock Plantation or Golden Rock Estate, as it was called by the late Charles Arnold and the late Kenneth van Putten, was cultivated in 1636 by the Dutch where things like tobacco and later on sugarcane were harvested.  

  Prior to Mr. Moore owning the Golden Rock Estate, it was owned by Abraham Heyliger. As was common practice in those days, Heyliger made a list of all of his properties. The enslaved were not seen as people in those days, so they were also listed as property. Based on these old records, we know quite a few of the names of the enslaved. So, on this Emancipation Day, or July Day as we call it in Statia, I pay homage to all the ancestors whose lives were ripped apart due to the evil practice of the transatlantic slave trade.

  Many of their names we do not know. But I will now say some of the names of the enslaved on Statia, who were held in captivity by Abraham Heyliger. And as I do so, I reflect on their struggles, their suffering, their triumphs and their will to survive. Here are the names: Bull, Mumu, Boca, Congo Phoenix, February, Jack, Zeeland, Kwaku, Congo Dick, Jacob, Saba Jacob, Jemmi, Kleintje, Suzanna, Saba Suzanna, Jengay, Diana, Barbara, Umpu, Dinia, Noortje, Pindar, Jantje, Blossom, Coimba, Son of Marietje, Rose, Eva, Nanny Ibo. Of course, there are many more names.

  William Moore, the father of Mr. Moore, bought the Golden Rock plantation in 1791 from the heirs of Abraham Heyliger. The plantation then came with 53 enslaved Africans.

  Are the bones that are currently being dug up at the Golden Rock planation those of Nanny Ibo, Blossem, Noortje or Congo Phoenix? Or are these the bones of their descendants?

  We must restore the human dignity of our enslaved ancestors. Perhaps one of the ways to truly restore their dignity, to give them peace and to help us heal is to put a temporary halt to the excavations and engage in meaningful and respectful dialogue with the community of Statia about how best to honor them, how best to move forward.

  “Happy, Happy July Day.  I glad I live to see that day.”

Xiomara Balentina