Our eyes are the window to our soul

We used to look each other in the eye for endless minutes. In that space of time that knows nothing about references, we talked to each other in deep silence. We confessed our fears, our expectations, our desires. Our eyes accurately described the small joys we felt in that brief moment. Our eyes dreamed together of the life we ​​wanted to have: a life that would last forever.

I finally found love and it was inside your eyes.

We laugh, cry, and love through our eyes. Excellent spokespersons for ourselves, our eyes are honest in reporting the latest happenings in the brutal war that takes place every day inside our fragile bodies. A silent war. Our eyes describe the white fear that steals territories within us. Our eyes scream aloud as the racist's knee chokes the black neck of our joy.

Our eyes weep deeply as an onslaught of mismatched passions explodes in our chests, turning our hearts to ruins.

In Africa, my ancestors were baptized by Europeans before boarding that ship that would forever separate them from their mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, and culture. We were baptized because we were told that we would not have a soul and therefore we had only one option: to accept Jesus Christ and be slaves. This strategy created new commerce, and wealth, and empowered nations for white people. For us, this disgrace created rape, torture, and poor nations for black people. It was during slavery that one of the mutilations practiced by white masters took place, which I consider the most atrocious: the brutal removal of the eyes of the fugitive slave. So he could never again recognize the way to her freedom. But there was another motivation to explain such cowardice:

without the enslaved person's eyes, the white man would never again have to face the hatred, the strength, the bravery, the daring, the relentless search for revenge that overflowed from the enslaved person's eyes like a dam that breaks in the day of the flood.

Our eyes don't lie.