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A slave's diary.

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A slave's Diary Day 1 The worst possible has happened I have had my home stricken from me by a white skinned demon and am now delimited to a water bound hell. Each lapping wave from the tempestuous sea that carries us to our unknown destination takes a small part of my resolve in its wake. I am fettered to a long pole and my movements are restricted by a chain which runs through the various binds of my neighbours. Once the white men took one of our number out of this place, although I think that it is not out of any form of kindness as he came back pained the smell of burning flesh following close behind. I sit here next to members of the mugimbi tribe and as such there is not much for conversation; the chafing of my binds burns me just as many a question burns my mind. ...read more.


Monsters. Recently I have found a form of salvation. It was so obvious I cannot believe it took me up to this point to realise it. We could call upon the Gods through tribe song. Prayers must not have been heard but when we sing I can feel the power of the Gods flow through me once more. Day 34 I do not believe we will ever leave this place. The white demons must be waiting until we are all dead. Just under a quarter of us have surrendered to eternal sleep ceasing their cries and escaping this nightmare. It must only be a matter of time before I too contribute the putrid atmosphere. It has improved a little though, I truly believe there is an angel amongst the demons, although he too speaks in tongues he seems to have the capacity for mercy, he washed us out and removed the liquid remains of those who had passed on, he even gave me some more food. ...read more.


It was the first time I had seen the sky in far too long, my limbs were sore and weakened from the restriction of movement and lack of exercise. I did not realise what they wanted me to do but I think that they were just doing it for their own enjoyment. How one could be so inhuman I do not know, they brought the fury of their tarred leather whip upon me. Slashing at my flesh, removing the skin from my back until I convulsed with pain. They laughed. I did not mind so much that they turn their fury upon me but I cannot accept that they do this to women and children. I was thrown back down into the darkness, bound again onto the pole sitting in a pool of my own blood. Day 43 I feel myself slipping away now, my surroundings fading into insignificance, I accept death. I welcome it. Invite it. Darkness is consuming me, this will me my last entry, thank you for allowing me to collate my thoughts. adieu. ...read more.

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Here's what a teacher thought of this essay

5 star(s)

This is highly successful account of a slave's experience at the hands of the traders. It evokes his sense of desperation, loss and final acceptance in the face of his incarceration in the hold of a ship.

The diary structure is a very effective tool to convey to us the horror of being cooped up with dying fellow slaves, especially the women and children, for such a long voyage.

The language is skillfully controlled, with competent use of long complex sentences and shorter simple sentences to vary the pace and impact. Some refinement to the punctuation is necessary in parts.

An excellent essay!

5 stars

Marked by teacher Jeff Taylor 26/04/2013

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