Brothers and sisters, they taught you in school that slavery was about cotton fields. They told you it was about tobacco, about rice, about sugar. But I came to tell you the truth tonight: it was more than fields. It was a system of terror, a system of genocide, a system of war — and the Moors were not slaves, we were prisoners of war.
On those plantations, they broke our backs in the fields from sunup to sundown. Yes, we picked the cotton, we cut the cane, we dried the tobacco. But the real crime was deeper. The real crime was the erasure of our identity. They didn’t just want our labor; they wanted our names, our languages, our flags, our nationality. They wanted to turn Moors into something new, something false — a slave.
And there were plantations worse than the cotton fields. There were breeding plantations. Don’t let anybody lie to you. They forced men and women together like cattle, like livestock, to “produce” children for the auction block. The womb of the Moorish woman was turned into an economic engine for white supremacy. Every child born was counted as stock, not as a soul. That was not agriculture — that was genocide.
There were plantations of human experimentation. Some of you don’t know this history. Doctors like J. Marion Sims, called the “father of gynecology,” cut open Moorish women without anesthesia. Plantation doctors tested poisons and surgeries on our people, because in their eyes, we were disposable. These weren’t plantations — they were laboratories of horror.
Some plantations didn’t grow crops at all. They grew profit from our skills. Moors built the finest furniture, the sharpest ironwork, the richest textiles. But our signatures were stolen, our art sold under another man’s name. And in some cases, they desecrated the very bodies of Moors — our skin made into leather, our bones into tools. Imagine that! Human beings turned into raw material for an economy of death.
And then there were the sexual plantations. You won’t hear about them in textbooks. Plantations where rape was entertainment, where women were violated for sport, where boys were forced into servitude for perverse pleasures. That wasn’t just abuse; it was policy. It was institutionalized. It was power twisted into perversion.
There were plantations where the greatest weapon wasn’t the whip — it was the mind. They separated families, they banned our tongues, they outlawed our prayers, they renamed us. They understood what too many of us still forget: you can break physical chains, but if you break the mind, you create a slave that doesn’t even know he’s in bondage. That was the purpose of these psychological plantations — to manufacture a false identity, a “Negro,” disconnected from Moorish blood and Moorish nationhood.
And when the chains supposedly came off, the plantations didn’t disappear. They just changed their names. Convict leasing, chain gangs, the prison-industrial complex — the new plantations. After so-called emancipation, the prisons became the fields, and the police became the overseers. Brothers and sisters, the plantation never died; it just got rebranded.
And now, today, they want to erase even this from the history books. They don’t want your children to know the truth. They want to call it “involuntary relocation.” They want to make slavery look like a summer job program. Why? Because if they can hide the crime, they can escape the justice. They want to keep the lie alive, so the descendants of the enslavers can feel good about themselves — while the descendants of the Moors remain blind to who they are and what was done to them.
So I say this: understand the plantation for what it was. It was not a farm. It was a concentration camp. It was a torture chamber. It was a breeding lab. It was a psychological prison. It was war against our people. And the only reason they fight so hard to erase it, is because when the truth comes out, justice must follow. Reparations must follow. Liberation must follow.
Brothers and sisters, we are not Negroes. We are not “blacks.” We are not colors in a crayon box. We are Moors. We are a nation. And until we reclaim that truth, they will keep us in mental chains. But the moment we embrace it, the lie collapses, the truth rises, and the resistance of our ancestors lives again in us.
