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For Freedo

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For Freedom By: Eunice Xing It was a silent and peaceful night. Not a creature in the forest stirred. Even the trees seemed to be holding their breath. Under the watchful eyes of the silver moon, a young mother and her child were running for their life. The young woman's eyes were fearful and wild, almost hysterical. Her coal black hair flew in all directions as her feet pumped forward hurriedly. Every few minutes or so, she would turn her head, as if to check whether anyone was following. In her arms, nestled a small bundle. She clutched it tightly against her chest and protected it as if it were her very own life. 20 year old Thamba was a black slave, a nigger, they called her. The foulest word in all languages, it left an indescribable bitterness in her mouth. The precious little bundle in her arms was her infant daughter whom Thamba had named Amali. An innocent, born into a world of cruelty, fear and shame, she was also a slave. But it was going to be different for Amali. ...read more.


Thamba's heart raced faster, her breath came out in panicked gasps and waves of terror washed over her. She looked down, where Amali's tiny frame lay, still asleep. The calm, even breathing of the young infant calmed Thamba's frantic heart, and the gentle face of her sleeping daughter hardened Thamba's steel determination to set Amali free. She scrambled forward, tripping over roots of ancient trees that her useless human eyes were blind to in the darkness of the night. Each time, she pushed herself up, and cared less about the countless scratches and wounds left all over her body. Thamba silently prayed that the small child would not wake up crying from the rough ride, giving away their location. Fear escalated in Thamba as the soft glowing hues of the lanterns carried by the searching men seeped through the gaps between trees, reaching towards her. Thamba broke into a fast sprint. Energy was draining out of her. She was running purely on desperation and hope. And then, even the hope left her. It was a lost cause. The men were on horses but Thamba could only rely on her two legs and she was also carrying the weight of another. ...read more.


It was a silent and peaceful night. Not a creature in the forest stirred. Even the trees were motionless. The moon hung watchfully in the sky. They could do nothing but watch as the tragedy unfolds. Thamba gently closed Amali's eyes, removing the traces of despair from the child's face. Had one not looked closely, they could have mistaken the infant to be asleep but Amali's body was limp and lifeless in her mother's arms. Yet, Thamba's tears had dried, for she knew that Amali was finally and truly free. All that remained was for Thamba to follow her beloved daughter to freedom. The men on horses were fast, but Thamba was faster. She knew exactly where to find what she was looking for. The blade she held in her hand was not of the best of quality, the edges had become somewhat blunt with time but it would serve its purpose. Thamba held the blade facing her chest and with a precise plunge, it went deep into her heart. The search party finally arrived, but they were too late. Thamba died with Amali held tightly in her arms, and a serene smile on her face. ...read more.

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