NOT A SLAVE

CHAPTER ONE:LIFE

Sara's pov

  Monday mornings are thought to be worse for many people but for me it was a different case. Monday for me is a bigining to all things. Starting from the bible god started creation at monday that's why we all begin our activities on monday.

In my country there is drought and famine not to mention that we were considered as another creatures and not human. We were free but not free at the same time. We had our own land but what good is it when we give all the things produced to our lords. We had home in which we were mostly hired to do work even though my families were exceptional. Since my father was not a slave we had our own home and family.

My father musa is a trader so he tends to travel all around the world with the others that come to our land. We call them whites and they call us black when all we need proof to know we are same species is to do a small cut and see red blood flow out of us. I mean there is no one with white blood so at the end of the day we are the same.

You might wonder why i like monday. Its because my father will be home all day and teach us different language that he learned from the whites. Currently me and my four years old sister ruth are learning English. We were not perfect but we could communicate and read well enough .

I've learned english since i was 3 thanks to my father who was admanent that all the family members should know atleast one of the languages of our colonizers. Now I'm 18 but my father keeps teaching me new things. Even though i have become fluent in english i sit and learn with my sister so she won't complain about being the only one learning.

"Thank you is for when we are greatful for what someone did." We've went through this nine times but my sister doesn't seem to be in a mood to learn today. Father keeps translating English into our own language.

"Musa let the kids have lunch enough with that" my mother elsa came to our tiny table with a big pot filled with porridge and 4 spoons for each of us to eat with. My mother cooks the best food sometimes when my father rans out of money she sells food to neighbours and our colonizers.

We said the prayers and were about to eat when we heard a loud bang and several gun shots accompanied with cries of the neighbours. My father was the first to run out then my mother followed telling us to stay put.

"Momma were is she i need her. I'm scared sara do something" my four years old sister ruth cried. I tried to keep her quiet even though the following five gunshots shook my whole being. Just when i was about to tell her everything is fine the door burst open and in came soldiers armed and all tall.

"Commander we have two more left and they are women one a child and the other a lady." It was the one with the cigar in his mouth speaking.

"We will take them with us and sell them. We need money and this is our luck." With that all the nasty green uniform soldiers laughed.

I turned to ruth and spoke in our language.

"No matter what don't let them know we speak their language."

"Come on girls let's get going we have a long way to go so better start now."

When they pulled us out we couldn't move staring at our parents body tossed on the ground along our neighbours. I was silently crying but when i saw ruth reaching her hand out to our mother i couldn't help but scream. I screamed out till my body hurt from exhaustion and my eyes couldn't focus with the amount of tears i shed. All while ruth was sitting there like a statue looking at our parents dead body.

After some while someone grabbed me and started to drag me away from my parents who had raised me through thick and thin Drought and food feast and now there gone. Someone else took ruths hand and lead her towards me.

"Take them to the cart and let's start going." The all so collected commander ordered his men.

So this is it what we call LIFE. Something unfair and full of tests that we are not ready for. Who knew i would lose both my parents and my home at my favourite day of the week. Now i see why my community hated mondays. Turns out the colonizers always choose a family to torture and kill just for their fan. They sell the children to slavery for money.

I HATE MONDAY but this is life and as me and my sister are climbing up the cart i can't help but pray for god to be with us.