These are two women are of the same origin but from different times. Scarification is an ancient tradition os marking someone's body in West Africa. Once seen as something that you wear proudly and for beauty is now judged and found unappealing. Scarification became very popular during the time of slave raiding, many families were broken apart and it was used as a way of identifying your background and family you belong to. It help bring unity during a hard time. Scarification had other meanings too, people used them for beauty, to showcase strength and many scars are also the aftermaths of medicinal healing from traditional doctors.
Many reason could be involved for the reason of it's ending practice. One being christian ministries and foreign governments trying to put an end to it, some areas they even made it illegal to do so. The main reason would be the cities forming and the residents within those areas, their outlook on their culture is changing with current society as they are adapting more European and other foreign cultures into their own. BY doing they see people who still carry scars as torn and imperfect, they they are not as pretty and therefore judged or outlasted. |
Through research I found these of culture, and growth. It spoke a lot of things changing in current society and traditions being lost but that doesn't define someones race or their ethnic pride. From that I pulled several poems a link that showed similar themes form what reading I did in research.
From that I created my blackout poem which spoke of the West African culture, and the relationship the younger generation has with it's culture.
Body,
house,
when you are fallen,
I sleep.
How?
Where can I go?
I know danger be to lie
without roof or door.
How will I hide?
Generations,
art of misdirection.
Falling and it’s young,
the young,
have multiplied in prayer
You had lives for many,
twisting and turning.
In life
I have not abandoned or forgotten you.
When I die,
You join me in darkness.
Together
Body,
house,
when you are fallen,
I sleep.
How?
Where can I go?
I know danger be to lie
without roof or door.
How will I hide?
Generations,
art of misdirection.
Falling and it’s young,
the young,
have multiplied in prayer
You had lives for many,
twisting and turning.
In life
I have not abandoned or forgotten you.
When I die,
You join me in darkness.
Together