a journey for slaves

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Katrina Duncan                               Sunday, 25 May 2008

A journey

There was fire- everywhere.  The flames licked the sides of our hut, greedily devouring the dry straw roof.  Others in the village were being destroyed too, one by one.  The attackers charged around the village torches in their hand, streaking behind them in the darkness.  All around me people were moving and the air was dense with screaming and panic.  I ran, but everywhere I turned there was someone there blocking me.  I knocked into people as we were forced into a tight circle.  I was near the middle and all I could see was taller bodies all about me.  I stood for ages, waiting.  The sound of metal wrought the air as gradually the people around me started to disperse.

I found myself face to face with a man of the kind I’ve never seen before.  His face was a colour of palest tones and he grabbed me and tossed me about with a roughness of hand I had never experienced.  Before I knew it, I had been bound, arms and feet tied and I was part of a long procession of people chained together.  I heard my older sister, further up the line, crying out for my mother.  All around me there were shouts and screams.  Know knew what was going on.

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Suddenly the ties binding me to the person in front were pulled tight and I was forced to move on with the convoy.  As we travelled through the darkness there was an occasional scuffle.  Someone would break free and try to run away.  They always got caught and what happened to them after that was so horrible it made me cry and beg them to stop.  Even when everyone was weeping and pleading with them to stop they wouldn’t.  Our captors were cruel and showed us no mercy.  However, we hadn’t seen the worst of what they would do yet. ...

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