Buaileann Seosamh Mac Grianna le duine
de lucht leanta Marcus Garvey
(Seosamh Mac Grianna meets a follower of Marcus Garvey)

This extract comes from Seosamh Mac Grianna's imaginative autobiobraphy, Mo Bhealach Fhéin. The passage is set in Cardiff in South Wales. The author was born in 1901 in Ranafast in the Donegal Gaeltacht in 1901. He trained to become a teacher, but joined the IRA in 1921 and was interned during the Irish Civil War. His politics prevented him obtaining permanent employment as a teacher under the Free State regieme, and he earned a living from part-time teaching and journalism and, later, by translating books into Irish for the state publishing imprint, An Gúm. His own best known books are An Grá agus an Ghruaim (Love and Sadness [short stories]) (1929), Pádraic Ó Conaire agus Aistí Eile (Pádraic Ó Conaire and Other [literary] Essays) (1936), Mo Bhealach Fhéin (My Own Way)(1940) and An Druma Mór (The Big Drum), which An Gúm refused to publish in 1933 and which was only published in 1969. Mac Grianna was subject to bouts of depression from his youth. These were accentuated by the circumstances of his life. He wrote little since the mid-1930s a concluding note to an unfinished novel, Dá mBíodh Ruball ar an Éan (If the Bird had a Tail) reads, "The well dried up in 1935. I did my best and I don't care." Seosamh Mac Grianna died in the asylum in Letterkenny in 1990.

Tá an sliocht seo le fáil i Mo Bhealach Fhéin, an t-úrscéal beathfhaisnéisiúil le Seosamh Mac Grianna agus tá sé suite i gCaerdidd i ndeisceart na Breataine Bige. Rugadh an t-údar i 1901 i Rinn na Feirste i nGaeltacht Thír Chonaill i 1901. Cháiligh sé mar mhúinteoir ach d'imigh sé le hArm na Poblachta i 1921 agus cuireadh sa ghéibheann é i rith Chogadh na gCarad, rud a d'fhág nach raibh sé in ann post mar mhúinteoir lánaimsearthach a bhaint amach faoi Shaor Stát Éireann. Ar dtús thuill sé a bheatha trí phostanna sealadacha múnteoireachta a ghlacadh agus trín iriseoireacht agus, ina dhiaidh sin, trí leabhair a aistriú go Gaeilge faoi scéim an Ghúim. Is iad na leabhair is mó chlú a scríobh sé féin ná An Grá agus an Ghruaim (1929), Pádraic Ó Conaire agus Aistí Eile (1936), Mo Bhealach Fhéin (1940) agus An Druma Mór, leabhar a dhiúltaigh an Gúm a fhoilsiú i 1933 agus nár fhoilsíodh go dtí 1969. Bhuaileadh taomanna den lionndubh é óna óige anall agus bhí saol sách cruaidh aige. Is beag a scríobh sé ó lár na dtriocaidí amach. In ndeire Dá mBíodh Ruball ar an Éan (úrscéal nár chríochnaigh sé) scríobh sé, "Thráigh an tobar sa bhliain 1935. Rinne mé mo dhícheall agus is cuma liom." Fuair sé bás in ospidéail na meabharghalar i Leitir Ceanann i 1990.

"I was born in the West Indies. My father was White. When I was sent to school, I was the brightest boy in the school. One day an inspector visited the school. He spoke to me and said that I was highly intelligent. 'But what use is that to you?' he said. 'You are Black and you will be kept in servitude.'"

"When I returned home, I ran to my father. 'What the devil brought you to marry my mother?' I said to him. He looked at me. 'Nature, dear child,' he said. 'Don't you know that I respect your mother?' 'The inspector told me today,' I said, 'that I would never get on in life because I'm Black, and if you hadn't married my mother I wouldn't be Black.' 'Bad luck to him!' said my father, 'hasn't he little heart to discourage my son like that!' He sent for the inspector and they had a fierce set-to. My father went so far as to punch the inspector. I was watching them without saying anything. I was Black and they were White and I left them to it."

"When I left school I worked in a garage. I was working flat-out there for only three pence a day. Eventually, I left that job and went to the United States. I saw my people there treated in a manner that made me think that perhaps God did not exist."

"If I told you all the places I travelled before reaching Cardiff, I'd be talking for a week. And there wasn't a place I visited that I didn't find my people oppressed and despised, for no comprehensible reason. There are old people back home who can remember the time a Black person could be bought for a penny. And we're still not valued much higher."

"The say we're uncivilised. They forget Egypt, the oldest nation on earth. They don't remember the skin colour of Jesus Christ; if He was like the people among whom He was born, He certainly wasn't very White."

"We played our part in the Great War. We spilled our blood in deluges and we've received little thanks for that. The White man gets ten shillings a week in this city when he's down and out, while the Black man won't receive more than eight shillings. I only receive six shillings."

"Do the Black people have any hope that they will achieve their rights in the near future?" I said.

"We now have a leader," he said, "who is trying to get the Black people of the world to stand shoulder to shoulder. Mad Garvey is his name, and no one knows who he is or where he comes from."

....He left, and the next day I went to the library to obtain books about the Black races. I spent a fortnight reading them, and the story was so disgraceful that I was ashamed to be a White person, forcing me to admit that the wrongs of my own country were merely like a slap you would give a child in comparision.

"Rugadh mé ins na h-Indiacha Thiar. Fear bán a bhí in m'athair. Nuair a chuireadh chun na sgoile mé ba mé an gasúr a b'fhearr ar an sgoil. Lá amháin tháinig cigire thart. Labhair sé liom agus dubhairt sé go rabh mé an-chliste. 'Acht goidé an mhaith sin duit?' arsa seisean. 'Ní bhfuighidh tú a dhath a choidhche dá thairbhe. Bhí sé comh maith agat fanacht sa bhaile. Tá tú dubh, agus coinneóchthar i ndaoirse thú.'"

"Nuair a chuaidh mé féin 'n a' bhaile reath mé chuig m'athair. 'Goidé an diabhal a thug ort mo mháthair a phósadh?' arsa mise. D'amharc sé orm. 'Tá, a rún, an saoghal,' ar seisean. 'Nach bhfuil a fhios agat go bhfuil meas agam ar do mháthair?' 'Dubhairt an cigire liom-sa indiu,' arsa mise, 'nach raibh a dhath i ndán domh a choídhche cionnas méa bheith dubh, agus dá mbítheá thusa gan mo mháthair a phósadh ní bhéinn dubh.' 'Droch-bhláth air!' arsa m'athair, 'nach mór an croidhe fuair sé beag-uchtach a chur ar mo mhac-sa!' Chuir sé fá choinne an chigire, agus bhí siad iongantach garbh le chéile. Chuaigh m'athair a fhad agus gur chrag sé le dorn é. Bhí mise ag amharc orthú agus níor labhair mé ar chor ar bith. Bhí mise dubh agus bhí said-san bán, agus d'fág mé eatorrú féin é."

"Nuair a d'fhág mé an sgoil fuair mé obair i siopa mótor. Bhí mé ag obair annsin go maslach agus gan agam acht trí pighne 'sa lá. Fá dheireadh d'fhág mé é agus chuaidh mé anonn chun an Oileáin Úir. Chonaic mé an bhail tugtha ar mo dhaoiní annsin a thug orm smuaintiughadh go minic nach raibh Dia ar bith ann."

"Dá n-innsighinn duit achan áit ar shiubhail mé sul a dtáinig mé anall go Caerdidd, bhéinn ag cainnt go ceann seachtmhaine. Agus níl aon áit dár shiubhail mé nach bhfuair mé mo dhaoiní faoi smacht agus droch-mheas orthú, agus gan a fhios againn cé'n fáth. Tá sean-daoiní ins an bhaile ar cuimhin leó an t-am a dtiocfadh fear dubh a cheannacht ar phighinn. Níl mórán dhe luach go fóill orainn."

"Deir siad go bhfuil muid fiadhain. Ghní siad dearmad ar an Éigipt, an náiseán is sine ar an domhan. Níl cuimhne acú goidé an dath croicinn a bhí ar Íosa Críost, ach má bhí Sé cosamhail leis na daoiní a dtáinig Sé chun tsaoghail seo i n-a measg, ní rabh Sé ró-bhán."

"Rinne muid ár gcuid de'n troid ins an Chogadh Mhór. Dhóirt muid ár gcuid fola 'n-a tuilteacha agus níl buidheachas ar bith orainn dá thairbhe. Gheóbhaidh fear bán deich sgillinge sa tseachtmhain ins an chathair seo má tá sé i n-anás, agus ní bhfuighidh fear dubh níos mó ná ocht sgillinge. Níl agam-sa mé féin acht sé sgillinge."

"An bhfuil uchtach ar bith ag na Daoiní Dubha go mbainfidh siad a gceart amach gan mhoill?" arsa mise.

"Tá ceannphort anois orainn," arsa seisean, "atá ag iarraidh fir dhubha an domhain a thabhairt ar ghualainn a chéile. Mad Garvey is ainm dá, agus ní feasach do dhuine ar bith cé'r díobh é nó carb as é."

....D'imigh sé, agus an lá ar n-a bhárach chuaidh mé féin go dtí an leabharlainn go bhfághainn leabharthaí a bhí ag trácht ar na cinidheacha dubha. Chaith mé coicthís ag léigheamh, agus bhí an sgéal comh gránna agus go raibh náire orm a bheith 'mo fhear bhán, agus gur aidmhigh mé nach rabh i n-éagcóir mo thíre féin acht mar bhas a bhuailfidhe ar pháiste le n-a thaobh.