A piece of mind

I wrote this in year 7 for a school assessment. I could improve but im going to leave it as it is as a record

    

 

 

 

           The men and women of Togo are busy. Children play games with rocks and draw in the dry red dirt with sticks. Birds dance around the waterhole and mosquitos buzz around my head.

            It’s a beautiful Monday morning and everything is perfect.

            I dress in the traditional clothing that is saved only for special occasions. Outside my hut people are gathering for my 27^th birthday ceremony, chatting amongst each other. Women prepare the food and collect water from the waterhole.

            Looking out the window I see my sisters; Danua my elder sister, Zahabu, and Naki, my younger and most precious sister. Past them, there is the bay. On the horizon I see two boats with white sails. They are coming towards the village.

            Why are these boats sailing in our waters? I wonder, walking out of my hut. There is a loud applause. My sisters grab my hand and begin dancing with me.

            After that, we have a dinner of damper, bananas and water. Everyone is enjoying this delicacy, until the two boats with white sails float up into our bay. White men begin to march out of the boat and on to our sandy beach. They have strange black things hanging over their shoulders. I turn to my sisters. They look petrified.

            People begin to scream and are running away from the men, dragging their children through the dust. I hear loud cracks, and see people fall to the ground.

            “Come, Wanjala!” Danua whispers urgently to me. “They shall take us away if we don’t go now.”

            Danua, Zahabu, Naki and I run, but before long Naki, my youngest sibling falls behind. I’m not going to leave her.

                        I yell to Danua, “Run! Run with Zahabu! We will catch up. I promise.”

            That’s the last I’m going to see of Danua and Zahabu, because for the next 7 months, I now know I’m going to be in hell.

 

  ****

          The American men find Naki and I hiding behind a bush. They tie our hands together with thick rope, and lead us around huts. Naki starts crying, and I protest to be let free. The white men don’t seem to understand me - they just keep dragging us along, leading us towards the white-sailed ships. They look bigger now. They look huge.

            I don’t understand why they are doing this to us. I have done nothing wrong, and Naki is only an 8 year old child.

            We reach the boats and I am shoved up onto the deck. Many adults are on this ship. They are crying and yelling. I see numerous children being tied together and led onto the other boat. Naki is one of them.

 

            For the next hour or so, more and more people are loaded onto the ship. The troopers take everyone down underneath the deck and into a dark space that smells of death. Apparently we are meant to live down here. I don’t believe them at first.

 

            Water drips from the roof while I sleep. Jumoke, one of my close friends from Togo, sleeps next to me. We are chained together with a metal collar around our necks and a long chain. They treat us like dogs. Sometimes we are allowed onto the deck but the fresh air isn’t worth getting whipped and kicked for. The deck isn’t the best place to be, so for days on end, Jumoke and I lay under the deck, thinking and talking about our past, all the while chained together.

            I hope Naki is ok. She is now all that I have.

            When somebody dies they are dragged by the white men up the stairs and thrown off the boat to be fed to the sharks. It’s not a surprise, because all we get fed is porridge and water, and the conditions on the boat are harrowing and vile.

            I hope, I hope for a miracle. Then Jumoke dies, and I start to lose all hope.

 

           

 

After 3 months of suffering on the boat, we reach land. I don’t know what country this is, but I’m not in the mood to think about it. I’m weak and beaten, and not sure where Naki is, or if she is even alive. I miss her terribly, but I have to stay strong to someday save what is rest of my family. I have to try. I promise myself that I will never give up.

 

 

 

                                                                       

 

 

 

****

           

The white men rub soap onto my dark body, and take us onto a high piece of floor, like a stage. I later discover that soap is to enhance my muscle appearance and improve my sale value.

            I look up and see many white skinned people. They are wispy like fog, and dressed in lots of colourful clothes, covering up their skin.

            Suddenly, an old lady in a yellow dress yells and points at me. I don’t understand what she says. More people start to yell and try to grab my blistered feet.

             A white man takes me off the stage, and ties a long piece of rope to my wrists. The old lady says something to the white man that I saw on the boat. She gives him money, like I have seen done in the market place in my neighbouring village.

            She pulls me along to a horse and connects the rope around my wrists to the saddle. She mounts the horse, then begins to trot along the dusty dirt road.

            I look to the stage, and see more black people getting auctioned off.

            The rope suddenly comes tight, which forces me to walk forward along the road, following the horse’s footsteps. My feet bleed and I sweat in the immense heat. The soap that is still on my body drips down my chest. It’s slimy and wet.

            After a long walk, we reach a small wooden house. It has a roof made of a shiny silver material, which seems strange.

             The old lady yells at me and drags me along a path leading up to the house. We turn left and walk through a small gate.

            Suddenly in front of me is the most amazing thing that I have ever laid eyes on. Millions of rows of sugar cane grow as far as I can see. It is a magnificent sea of green. The large expanse of sky above me is a lovely sapphire blue. It is a beautiful picture of hope. Then reality returns when the old house, my shackles, and the short wispy lady come back into focus. Suddenly the sky turns the colour of bruised flesh.

 

            The old lady orders me to call her ‘Mistress Gillespie’. It is a strange name but that doesn’t matter. Later on Mistress takes me outside with a bucket of water. She lights a fire and brings out a long metal thing with letters on the end. After tying me to the shed, she sticks the metal into the flames of the fire. She holds it in there and then shoves it onto my back. The burning pain is too much for me. I begin to yell and scream. Then Mistress takes the hot metal off me, grabs the bucket of water, and throws the water onto my back. The water only helps for a second because then the burning sensation on my back comes back again.

 

            Working in the sugar cane fields is lonely and monotonous. In this hot summer, all of us labourers working in the field get very sweaty and tired. Mistress has 3 labourers, including me. Sometimes we sing to pass the time, but there is always an inner sadness inside my body. We sleep in a shed outside the house, which is uncomfortable. Every night we get food scraps thrown into the shed for us to eat. They are not very nice tasting, but of course, better than nothing.

            Mistress has begun to call me by my name, and I think her daughter and I are slowly getting used to each other as she used to stare at me all the time, like I was something from a rubbish bin. Now she sometimes smiles at me. She really is a beautiful lady. Her name is Julia.

 

            One day when Mistress is out Julia comes to get me from the fields. She takes my hand and leads me into the house. I have never been inside a house like this before. I look around in awe. The walls are coloured purple, and there are pictures hanging up. Looking to my left, there is a doorway and then something that looks like a seat with a hole in it. It is shiny and white. I curiously try to walk towards it, but Julia grabs my arm. She takes me to a low table and unfolds a piece of paper. On the paper there is a map of the world. I can see the continent of Africa, my home. These types of maps I had seen in school.

            When I was a child, I went to school for 5 years, but then had to quit when my parents died.

            Interrupting my thoughts, Julia points to the land across the sea, to the left of Africa. Then she slides her finger across to The Americas. And points to a place in the south of North America, near the sea.

            “There”, she says. I understand. That is where the boats took me, across the sea and to America.

            “Thankyou” I say to her. She smiles, and touches my arm. Suddenly a wave of warmth sweeps over me. I feel happy and safe.

             Julia turns around and begins to walk outside. I follow her. I hear the sound of horses clopping up the front path. Julia turns to me in fright. She begins to talk to me. Although I can’t understand, I can hear in her voice that it is urgent.

            She points to the side gate and makes a sound like the houses clopping. I laugh, amused at her silliness. She makes a sign to run with her fingers. I sense that she is serious, so I run back down the hill to the sugarcane fields. Looking back, I see Mistress Gillespie leading her horse around the side gate. Julia looks at me, and smiles. I grin back.

 

 

 

                                                                                   

 

 

 

 

 

 

****

 

It’s been 6 months since I left my home in Togo, Africa. My sisters are hopefully alive, and I can’t wait to get out of here and be with them again. But I also don’t want to leave in a way, because I will leave Julia.

           

            One day Julia comes and gets me from the fields. Mistress must be away, because the house is empty when we walk in. Straight away Julia opens up the map, and circles Africa with her finger. She lifts up her shoulders. I’m guessing that she wants to know where I come from. I point to the small country of Togo. Julia closes the map and places it in my hand.

           

 

            On the table there are three baskets. Inside the baskets there is food. Proper food. My body tingles with excitement. I’m going to get food! When Julia sees me eyeing the food, she steps in front of it. In her hand I see a piece of paper. On it is writing, but it is in English so I cannot read it. She hands me the paper, and points to my pocket. I put it in. What is it for? Julia leans over and kisses me on the forehead.

           

            We sit on the horses, trotting down the road. ‘Clip clop, clip clop,’ the hooves tap on the dirt. I don’t know where we are going. On the back of Julia’s horse, there are the baskets of foods I had seen on the table.

            After trotting for a long time, I begin to hear the faint whisper of the sea. Five minutes later I see the horizon and getting closer, the shore. There are many people around the beach. When we ride past, everyone seems to turn his or her head and stare at me. I know why. They think that I am a labourer, because I am black. But that doesn’t matter, because Julia and I are free. I am no longer a slave.

           

            We get on the boat. Julia takes me to a small room and opens the door with the key. Inside I see a real bed, and one of those shiny white round things with holes in the top. Julia puts one of the baskets of food on the floor. She smiles and then leaves my room, shutting the door behind her. I walk up to the food and begin eating. I have never in my life had food this nice! After eating, I walk up to the white thing, and look inside. There is water. Suddenly I have a memory in which my mum is telling me about the way people in other countries live. She told me about the white round things that people use instead of a river. There should be a chain that you pull to make it flush. I look up. There is a chain. I think this thing is called a toilet.

 

            When the boat slows down, Julia and I meet at the front of the boat and look over the rail. We see Togo Bay. Beyond it, we see the village of Togo. It has not changed a lot, but there are hardly any people, and less noise. It looks peaceful. I can’t believe I am finally home.

           

                            

 

           ****

 

            Our wedding is wonderful. Danua and Zahabu are here, but Naki can’t join us. Julia and I choose this day for our wedding because today is Naki’s 10^th birthday­.

            We go to my house. My sisters don’t live there anymore, so Julia and I take it to be ours. I begin to learn the English language, so I can communicate with my wife. We have two children, a boy and a girl.

            Although I haven’t seen Naki for a long time, I still think about her with an enormous amount of love and respect. I have lost my sister, but I now have a wife and children.

            I now have a future.

 

 

 

 

            

Author's Note

Note: i tried to fit a large story into not to many words, as there was a word limit. Consequently it hasn't got much depth or detail. I like it though!

Reviews

[Ebs]

what an awesome story! Great :)
I remember writing one of these. You know i only realised that the main character was a guy at the end of the story cause he got married to Julia and i was like "huh lesbian?" lol.
awesome though. I few historical mistakes like the Africans wouldn't have maps i don't think. I'll research it.
anyways awesome hun

ebs