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Quote by Haresh Sippy

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Haresh Sippy

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“The tales Stolen men and women handed down to their children included the adventures of Buba Yalis, or flying Africans. According to the stories, certain Stolen had been gifted with the power of flight. After chanting buba yali and other phrases now forgotten, they rose above their misery and flew back to our homeland. Others could do the same, the story went, if only they could remember the magic words.”

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“In a clearing, we began a ring shout by linking hands and marching counterclockwise, each step taking us back to a time before Thieves, before abduction and the routine infliction of wicked depravities. To a time before we were Stolen, when our ancestors walked with us and anything was possible. With the accompaniment of tapping sticks and the humming of sacred sounds, we raised our hands high. “Brethren, Sistren,” I urged, “let us be who we are.”

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“Waking quickly, I leapt to the ground and looked directly into the eyes of the Savage. He looked entirely different, calm somehow; all traces of lunacy had vanished from his expression. His mouth, usually slack and oblivious to the ever-present flies, had formed a sly smile, his lips curved and tight with purpose. These he opened and uttered the first word I’d ever heard him speak. “Run,” he said. “Run.” I had seconds to obey him before flames devoured the entire conveyance.”

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“Though Mary could not speak she had learned to endow her gestures with great meaning. Every raised eyebrow and curled lip conveyed precise instructions, from take care with the salt to add more wood to the fire. Planters from farms throughout the county sent their Stolen cooks to study and practice under her knowing gaze. Watching her preside over her smoky cookhouse was akin to watching an elaborate dance. The Thieves, with their reels and waltzes, couldn’t begin to match the majestic grace of Silent Mary and her acolytes as they moved about her tiny space, conjuring tasty confections from the smoke and flames.”

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