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Slavery - the diary entries of Kunta Kinte

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17th May 1765 Dear diary, My name is Kunta Kinte and at the moment I am fifteen years old, I am a Muslim and will always be a Muslim, I was born in the year 1750. Now at home my mother likes me to do jobs around the house and the village, I do jobs such as looking after the goats, and collecting fire wood. I always carry my bag/pouch on me which has a sling-shot in, some small stones and a knife which my father gave to me. Many people of the village tell me many valuable lessons such as respect towards people and about dangerous animals. My father is called Omaro, he is the leader of the Mandinka tribe and he is a respected member of the village. My father always wears a bag/pouch around his neck which is a symbol he is in the Mandinka tribe, what's more is that all men of the Mandinka carry a knife at all times to protect himself and his family. Many men, only wear what they have to wear which is a cloth wrapped around his waist and inner thighs. By the way all the people of our village are Muslims which mean that they worship the great Allah, the impressive Allah, and the noble Allah. My grand-father has built the hut that I have lived in all of my life and hopefully one day my father will make me a hut to bring my family up in and I will make a hut to bring up their family up in. Here in my home village of Jufureh we don't wear anything on our feet (shoes) as there is no point in wasting materials that are only going to get worn out and he has better things to make than shoes as he makes all of our possessions from wood, mud as well as anything else he can find, so far he has made everything I wear, eat from, sleep in and use. ...read more.


The men managed to get me in the shackles, I tried to get out of them I really did but it was no use I was destined to die or be a slave either way, my future isn't looking to good. January 6th 1766 Dear diary, A few weeks ago now I was captured, (on the way I must of dropped my bag which had my sling - shot and spare knife in, in which might have helped me escape) and put in some wood like cage with a door that is attached with ropes. If you really wanted to you could escape but at the white man camp a few people did try to escape but got shot down or tortured with whips. Plus if you wanted to escape you would have to persuade around ten people to escape as well as you were attached to each other by the rope that was tied around each of our necks. The white men talk differently to us, they talk in a weird sort of accent and language to us. They call us 'Nigas' which personally I think is calling us animals. After spending around an hour in there I saw the wrestler from manhood training, after seeing him tied by the neck I realised just how strong and slick the white men really are. Now I feel weak, really weak, I find it hard to stand now there are so many in our cage and the people I am tied to keep moving making the rope rub against my neck. I bet that right now my tribe the Mandinka as well as my father are looking for me. I bet they have found my bag; my mother would be distraught if my father would have returned with my bag but not me in person. As I was wondering that I remember seeing Fanta she was getting whipped as she kept standing out of line. ...read more.


Everyone has their own job. If there was one job I would love to do it would be either cook or work with the carriages, taking Master where ever he wants to go. I would like to cook as you could take extra food to eat and you can be in the warmth of the kitchen, on the other hand I would like to work in the carriages as you could explore the white man's land and see outside Masters grounds. Some of the jobs that I have to do in order to stay/eat/drink are chopping down the corn, planting seeds, looking after all the animals' they have got here, as well as learning the white man's language. Once within the two weeks I have been here I have escaped, I managed to find a piece of a metal blade in the fields whilst I worked and hid it in my trousers until it was time to go back into my hut every night for three nights I worked until dawn sawing away at the shackles until it split, I was then free. But Finley just happened to walk in and find there was a break in the link, he wasn't happy. He started going on about how the Master would hurt Finley take all of his pleasures in life at that time away. In the end though he told me to take the food he had just brought him and run, run as fast as he could as in the morning the Master will search for you with his men and hound dogs. He warned me that if he heard the howling of dogs he should run as fast as he could away from the howls. But in the end the Master caught me he took me back to my hut in shackles, I was left there for a week before the master handed me over to a man that wouldn't stop whipping me until I told him my name is Toby. Now that was pure and utter torture! ?? ?? ?? ?? ...read more.

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