A Diary of a Slave Girl

The Capture

The Capture, Gambia, inland and the coast:

Yay, I can’t wait, the sun has just risen and I am getting ready to go out with Fantah to visit our friends in the next door village. I am now walking to Fantah’s were we will meet our three warriors for the day, Kunte, Asita and Asamoa. Walking through the woods has always been one of my favourite activities; it is so peaceful and safe out there, but today I was wrong about one thing, safety. We were walking through the woods when we heard a BANG and screams, so as warriors do they went of to see what was wrong, they told us to stay here and not to worry. When someone tells you not to worry, naturally you only worry more than t you were before. So there we were scared and trying not to run off when we heard footsteps behind us. I turned around and screamed, a White man was standing right in front of me!

Fantah was already running and I turned and started off after her until another White man came out in front of us. We turned and ran the other way, only into yet another White person, how many were there? I looked around me; horrified, some of our own Africans were helping them! How could they? All I felt then was one thing, betrayal, how could we have been betrayed by our own people? They had us enclosed, captured, and were starting to tighten the circle they had around us. Where were Kunte, Asita and Asamoa? Aren’t they supposed to be here protecting us, so that this exact thing doesn’t happen? Questions which seemed so important then kept on rushing around in my head, until they were stopped by the White men, they were shouting something in an unusual tongue. They looked like they thought we were animals by the way that they were looking and shouting at us.

I had no idea what they were trying to shout at us, I was only focused on how hard Fantah was gripping onto my hand and screaming her head off. Until the whole of my attention was drawn back to the White man and what they were dragging out of the bush. Kunte, Asita and Asamoa, all chained up with their heads hanging low. When I looked into their eyes all I saw was plain terror and guilt, guilt that they hadn’t been able to complete their job. The one thing that a warrior fears more than death, failure.  That’s when the shouts started, me and Fantah were rooted to the spot with horror, of what we saw in front of us. So much so that when Asamoa started shouting,

“ Run! Run with your lives, get back home!”

We didn’t do anything, just stood there and let the White men capture us.

I don’t know how long we stood there with other African women, it felt like ages that we were standing there with our hands and feet chained together. The chains were so heavy and so hot, that one of the other women already had swells and blisters on their wrists and ankles. Finally the White men started yelling at us and grabbing us to get us onto our feet, I stood up before any of the White men could touch me. Fantah wasn’t so lucky, one of the White men grabbed her hair and pulled her up of the floor. They dragged us all away from the woods, heading west, towards the sea and the coast, away from our beloved home.  I think Fantah was crying, I certainly was I didn’t have a glue when I was going to see Mum and Dad again, if I would ever see them again. We must have walked for miles before we reached the glorious sea, only it didn’t seem glorious this time, it was like the engulfing night, ready to swallow us up whole at any time.

They shoved us all into wooden cages, ten women to one cage, it was like we were animals’. We did nothing but wait in them cages, it must have been over a day that we were cooped up like that. This was while all the White men were aboard their Great Canoe floating on the ocean. It had white billowing sheets floating in the air, making the Great Canoe sway from side to side. The sheets were attached to one massive pole that came out of the middle of the Great Canoe. We called it the Great Canoe because it was by far ten times bigger than any of our canoes back home. I was so focused on studding the Great Canoe until one single White man came and unlocked our cage.