Tags
Black lives matter, East Indian indentureship, Guyanese Poet Martin Carter, Marginalized urban populations, Suspension of the British Guiana Constitution 1953, Working class oppression
Homeless Woman outside Parliament Buildings – Georgetown – Guyana
Photo Credit: Mark Jacobs
My Poetry Corner January 2015 features the poem “I Come from the Nigger Yard” by Guyanese poet Martin Carter (1927-1997). Following the suspension of the British Guiana Constitution in 1953, the poet-politician composed this poem during his three-month detention, together with other political leaders, by the British Army.
For readers unfamiliar with the history of Guyana, a former British colony until May 1966, slavery ended in 1834. East Indian indentured laborers began arriving from India in 1838 and continued until 1917. Other immigrant workers came from Portuguese Madeira (1835-1882) and China (1853-1879).
In the 1890s, living conditions on the British-owned sugar plantations remained deplorable. Occupying a section of the plantation, the “nigger yard” consisted of crude huts built on low-lying, badly drained land. When the indentured East Indian workers arrived, they lived under similar conditions in logies, barrack-type mud-floor ranges in the “bound-coolie-yard” [Cheddi Jagan, The West on Trial: My Fight for Guyana’s Freedom, 2004, p.30].
The first three verses of Carter’s poem, “I Come from the Nigger Yard,” resound like a call to self-realization of the oppressed working class of 1950s British Guiana, comprising mostly of Blacks and East Indians.
I come from the nigger yard of yesterday
leaping from the oppressors’ hate
and the scorn of myself;
By writing in the first person, the poet – of mixed African, Amerindian, and Portuguese ancestry and of a middle-class family – identifies with the oppression and despair of the impoverished working class, relegated to the bottom of the colony’s social strata. Self-contempt for their lot comes…
from the agony of the dark hut in the shadow
and the hurt of things;
from the long days of cruelty and the long nights of pain…
Needy Family in Corentyne – Guyana
Photo Credit: Arya Samaj Humanitarian Mission
The sixth stanza, describing living conditions in a city slum, evokes the current deprivation of marginalized urban populations in Guyana, the United States, and other urban regions worldwide.
So was I born again stubborn and fierce
screaming in a slum.
It was a city and coffin space for home
a river running, prisons, hospitals
men drunk and dying, judges full of scorn
priests and parsons fooling gods with words
and me, like a dog tangled in rags
spotted with sores powdered with dust
screaming with hunger, angry with life and men.
In spite of the hardships and pain of the oppressed working class of 1950s British Guiana and the blow dealt by the White ruling elite in suspending the British Guiana Constitution, the poet looks to the future with optimism in the closing two verses.
From the nigger yard of yesterday I come with my burden.
To the world of tomorrow I turn with my strength.
Amerindian lives matter. Black lives matter. East Indian lives matter. Brown lives matter. Across Guyana, the United States, and our planet, people are revolting against the oppressors’ hate.
leaping I come, who cannot see will hear.
Read “I Come from the Nigger Yard” and learn more about Martin Carter and his work at my Poetry Corner January 2015.
Dear Reader, my debut novel, Under the Tamarind Tree, is now available at Rosaliene’s Store on Lulu.com and other book retailers at Amazon, BAM! Book-A-Million, Barnes and Noble, Book Depository, and Indie Bound.
Learn more about Under the Tamarind Tree at Rosaliene’s writer’s website.
Very powerful, Rosaliene. Thank you. To my surprise, Mr. Carter came from a middle-class background. All the more impressive, then, were his politics and his poetry.
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Dr. Stein, I’m glad that you, too, felt the power of Martin Carter’s poem. At an early age, through the influence of his parents, he was exposed to literature and developed a love for writing poetry. This probably developed his sensibilities towards the plight of the struggling working class.
The firstborn of a working-class family, I spent my childhood years in a “tenement yard” of two-flat houses each divided into four separate dwelling units, owned by a black middle-class family. During the colonial period, these “tenement yards” provided low-cost housing for the majority working class. While the British sugar plantation owners reaped the profits of our land and labor to enrich themselves and the Motherland, the laborers toiled for starvation wages.
To the detriment of humankind and our ecosystems, the days of colonialism have not ended. It has merely transformed and expanded into what is now known as neo-colonialism: our globalized capitalist economic system of unfettered greed.
From the black tenement yard of yesterday I come with my burden.
To the world of today I turn with my strength.
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Reblogged this on Guyanese Online.
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Cyril, thanks for reblogging my post. I appreciate your continued support.
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Rosaliene, an impressive article and an indelible poem. Martin Carter distinction as Guyana’s most prominent and famous poet is obvious in his writings. This poem vividly etched in our minds the naked harshness of the deplorable conditions that existed during plantation times.
Thanks for the information and highlighting this poem.
Best wishes to you and your family for a happy, healthy and fulfilling new year.
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Thanks, Deen. I’m glad that you, too, appreciate the work of one of Guyana’s prominent poets.
With my life-experience of growing up in a “tenement yard” during the last days of colonial rule, I identity with Martin Carter’s poem. I feel that “burden.” I know that “scorn of myself.” I face today “with my strength.”
Thank you for your best wishes for this New Year and wish the same for you and your loved ones.
Thanks, too, for sharing your insights and experiences with me during 2014.
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From my post Guyanese Online:
https://guyaneseonline.wordpress.com/2014/12/13/remembering-martin-carter-7-june-1927-13-december-1997/?relatedposts_hit=1&relatedposts_origin=36895&relatedposts_position=2
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Leonard, thanks for sharing your poem, “Remembering Martin Carter.”
For those of us who grew up in the turbulent 1960s and 1970s, Carter’s poetry was a light in the darkness. As you express it in your poem:
“holding a flagrant torch with hands up high”
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Magnificent, beautifully written and arranged. Carter is a master at bringing to life the past, present, and future at the same time. Hope I see him in the resurrection.
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Thanks for your comments, Mark.
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