Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo"

by Zora Neale Hurston

That though the heart is breaking, happiness can exist in a moment, also. And because the moment in which we live is all the time there really is, we can keep going.

Life, inexhaustible, goes on. And we do too. Carrying our wounds and our medicines as we go.

From 1801 to 1866, an estimated 3,873,600 Africans were exchanged for gold, guns, and other European and American merchandise.

“Foster making this selection with the intention of flattering the Prince, to whom Gumpa was nearly related.”

(The heads are always cut off and carried home. No warrior may boast of more enemies slain than he has heads to show for.)

“Where is de house where de mouse is de leader? In de Affica soil I cain tellee you ’bout de son before I tellee you ’bout de father; and derefore, you unnerstand me, I cain talk about de man who is father (et te) till I tellee you bout de man who he father to him, (et, te, te, grandfather) now, dass right ain’ it?

“Some men in de Affica soil don’t gittee no wife ’cause dey cain buy none. Dey ain’ got nothing to give so a wife kin come to dem. Some got too many. When you hungry it is painful but when de belly too full it painful too.

Watermelon, like too many other gorgeous things in life, is much too fleeting.

I born a king in Takkoi where my father and his fathers rule before I was born. Since I been a full man I rule. I die a king but I not be no slave.’

Sometime we holler back and forth and find out where each other come from. But each nation in a barracoon by itself.

“We lookee and lookee and lookee and lookee and we doan see nothin’ but water. Where we come from we doan know. Where we goin, we doan know.

De wife she de eyes to de man’s soul. How kin I see now, when I ain’ gottee de eyes no mo’?