Escape
I had to do what was best for my child. I couldn’t let them face such cruelty as well. I crept out in the dead of night, walking for miles and miles in the gloom. My allowance had been cut because of my poor work so much stomach was grumbling and I could feel sweat sliding down my aching back that stung and seared. My feet were aching but I persevered. Once I reached a town, I could tell someone about the dreadful punishments. We could be released, we could be free. Then I remembered the initials branded on my shoulder: J M.
I wondered along the road for seemingly eternity. My body was stiff and weary as I walked dazedly around the bustling town. Living on nothing but scraps and sleeping in alleyways, I began to wonder if Monifa missed me. I turned a corner and saw a poster: WANTED! RUNAWAY SLAVE! A NEGRO GIRL NAMED JANE- Jane. That was me. He was coming for me. Me and my baby. Feeling dizzy, I took one step forwards, before everything went black.
I suppose you want to know what became of me. I was rescued by a man called Gustavus Vassa. He promised to hide me in his house and listened to my story from the moment I was captured. Little did I know he was making notes as I talked, for his campaign against the abolition of slavery. His autobiography came out the same year: ‘The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano’. He stole my surname. He stole my identity like Mr Merrythought did. Mr Merrythought’s child was stillborn. My baby boy was stillborn. All that punishment, for nothing. The hole in my heart was never repaired.
I think that was the worst thing about being a slave, the physical and the emotional pain because it changes you and tears you up. The work was bad because we didn’t get paid even though we toiled arduously dawn until dusk. Branding us and changing our names was another of the worst things because we had already been taken from our homes, what more did they want? Losing Adannaya was hard but I didn’t know I was going to become a slave then. Can there be any good points about being a slave? If there can be, it was a comforting thought to know that thousands of other unsuspecting people like me had had their lives ruined by the white-skinned men.
I write this as an old woman, who has experienced many things that one should never have to go through. I found someone to share my life with, someone who could slowly try to mend my heart. He cared about me, and that's all I needed. The children my husband and I have brought into this world are strong, courageous and beautiful. A shadow of a smile ripples on my face, for today my grandson is getting married and as long as he is happy, I can try and be happy.
YOU ARE READING
The Diary Of Ada-afo Equiano
Historical Fiction"It was just Adannaya and I in the house. I was mending clothes in the front room when I heard a scream." When Ada-afo and her sister Adannaya are captured by a raiding party, they have no idea what horrors they are going to face. Sold into slavery...
