Amistad- Part One

The colony of Sierra Leone. Normally a nice quaint area. The small colony where so few resided. Who would ever think enough to invade and destroy this closely knit community? Those of us who dared to live here could have never expected, or been prepared to deal with, what was about to happen in this tranquil village. No one knew that tomorrow’s surprises would change the colony forever. My father, mother, brother, and I all turned out the lights that night, unaware that it would be our last night together before the capture that would change our lives forever. My father is a big man. He’s built like an old sturdy brick, heavy set and surprisingly strong. Quite the opposite of my father, my mother is tiny and short, but she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. My brother, Zuberi, is eight years old. His name means strong willed. For his age, he is nothing short of this. He is highly motivated and will do anything to help anyone out.
As the community turned black that cold, cloudy November evening, everyone was expecting to wake up the next day to the intense brightness of the morning sun. It turned out to be quite the opposite.
As the morning casts a shadow through my miniature bedroom window, I open my eyes briefly to discover what the new day is like. I hear a small cry coming from outside, but too tired to investigate, I roll over in bed. Lacking the time to even completely close my weary, worn out eyes, I hear a crash as my bedroom door swung open. My view of the man standing in front of me is slightly blurred due to the lack of sleep. “Get out of this house now!” screams a voice coming from my doorway. I am used to the usual wake up call from my mother every morning, but this certainly isn’t my mother. I rub my eyes, uncertain if I am dreaming or if this is actually happening. When my “dirt” colored eyes become focused, I realize that this is no dream. Too scared to even blink an eye, I sit straight up in my diminutive bed, staring directly into the eyes of a tall, white man. He is armed with a gun and appears to be some kind of soldier. I am too worried to object his powerful command, so I climb out of the comfort of my bed and follow the man outside. I have all I can do to stop myself from breaking down in tears. The whole colony is standing in one tiny area, heavily surrounded by white men equipped with guns. Upon being placed next to everyone else, I immediately begin searching for my family, whom I haven’t seen or heard of since the cold sky turned black the previous night. Although this event seems bad, nothing could ever prepare me or anyone else what we were about to witness in the near future. A giant ship with enormous sails, off white in color, was moving down the shoreline towards us. On the left side of the massive ship the word AMISTAD was neatly printed. I’m not yet sure what this giant ship is invading our peaceful colony for, but I know it must be serious. I cry out, “No. No. It can’t be. We can’t go with them.” But I knew it was too late. There were already people boarding the ship, shackled and guided by the white men in uniforms. In all my ten years of life, I have never imagined anything like this. Sierea Leone was supposed to be peaceful, and away from the mode of any adversity. I looked back at my house, my eyes filled with tears. In the background, I saw a son being dragged from his mother’s arms as a white man struck a match and threw it through a window of their comfortable straw hut. The woman lost all grip of her infant son and fell to the ground weeping in tears. She took one last glimpse into the dark, water filled eyes of her tiny, helpless son. With one last glimpse of her life walking abruptly away from her, she cries out, “No! You can’t take my baby! Please, he’s all I have left!” The man ignores her innocent plea and continues walking towards the ship. What happened next, I didn’t see. My attention quickly switches to the doorway of my own hut. This was a bit of a relief for me because I knew that at least one member of my family would be making the excruciating voyage with me, wherever we were headed. I look around in fright for the rest of my family but find them to be nowhere in sight.
Along with the rest, I get picked up and thrown onto the ship. Almost immediately upon boarding the ship, I, along with the other thirty- five innocent people, were strapped and chained to the floor of the ship. It suddenly hit me. This was a slave ship. The men that rampaged through the colony just minutes ago were taking us all away from the comfort of our small, cozy huts to work as slaves in some far off country. I heard cries from all corners of the ship. However, one stood above all the other pleas. “Mama! Daddy! Help Me! Please, Help Me!” cried the young child’s voice. I instantly recognized this cry for help as Zuberi. I tried with all my might to break free from the shackles holding me down, but realized there was no use. By the time I would be able to make it over to my brother, he too would be strapped to the floor. There was a small bit of relief knowing that my brother was still alive. Now if only I could somehow reach my mother, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about them already being dead. There as a small bit of comfort that overcame me as I realized that no matter what happened, it would happen with me in the company of my loved ones.
This slim moment of happiness was quickly shattered when I witnessed my brother being whipped by the man who broke into our house that morning. Zuberi had apparently rejected being placed so far away from father. They have always been close, and whenever Zuberi was scared, he turned to father, who up until now, had always been there to comfort him. He was chained down not too far from me, but still out of range for any attempt at conversing. After everyone was tied down, the ship set sail. My nerves raced, as I knew that I might never again see my quaint colony.
Word got around and I overheard a conversation by two of the crewmen. We are apparently being shipped to Havana, Cuba, which is a Spanish colony. The crewmen on deck were beyond evil. After only two days of being captured, many were dead- the causes being dehydration, disease and starvation. One by one, men, women and even small children were dying- their bodies just thrown overboard like some unimportant, worthless animal. Al of these people were my friends and neighbors. Perhaps the most startling incident thus far occurred when my neighbor, who lived just to the right of me was being unshackled, grabbed onto carelessly, and thrown into the deep, dark waters, never to be seen again. I close my eyes as the careless, insensitive men throw my best friend over board. Just a few weeks ago, we were enjoying the outdoors with each other, running around and playing jokes on our fellow friends. I lay still for a moment as I recollect the last time I saw my best friend. Giant tears fill my eyes as I realize that I will never again be able to speak to her. Just like myself, they had high hopes of returning, one day, to our native land to live free.