Fayola's story

Fayola squeezed Saska, their bodies pressed together on the skinny cot bed thin layers of dirty cotton between them. The relentless hammering of pick on rock echoed down the passage. Saska moaned in the dry dusty air as she slowly stirred from slumber.

“Wake up, we’ve got work to do,” Fayola whispered into her ear.

Saska rolled out of bed landing on the dirt floor. “Then why you lying about in bed?” she taunted and dashed away jumping from sleeper to sleeper as she ran between the rails towards the sunlight.

Climbing out of bed more slowly Fayola lowered her feet to the rough ground. She got to her feet and trudged down the tracks, “Look after your little sister.” their father called after her his voice tired as always.

The bright sunlight stung her eyes as she emerged from the tunnel, Saska was already beneath the shower, the water sloshed as it ran through a trough feeding the large heads that spat cold water through clogged holes.

Fayola pulled her cotton dress over her head and twisted a valve to release water above her. Saska had claimed the least clogged head leaving Fayola with one that sprayed water on only one side. She washed her dress under the water till the water hitting the dirt was no longer brown.

With the dress wrung out and hung up she stepped under the cold water. It stabbed like needles at her black skin.

“I don’t know why you bother washing your dress, it just gets dirty again,” Saska said as she put her dress back on. Fayola didn’t explain that the drying dress hung to provide the smallest of modesty from the guards as she let the water run through her tangled hair.

The early morning sun was already hot enough to dry the thin material quickly so by the time she slid it back over her head it was merely damp. The material clung to her body as followed her little sister to the well.

Saska smiled at Hugo, the boy who manned the well, her dark skin wasn’t enough to hide the blush as she shyly lowered her eyes from the boy a year older than her. They stood silently looking at each other, too young to know how to interact, too old to ignore how they made each other feel.

“Is anyone going to draw the water?” Fayola asked to break the silence.

“Oh yes, sorry.” The boy stuttered as he pushed the bucket from the edge to let it tumble down to the water’s surface the wheel squealing as it spun, releasing the rope. Saska helped him turn the wheel to retrieve the bucket. The full bucket was heavy enough to make them both strain pulling it up. Neither spoke as it made its journey up but both wanted to, sometimes opening their mouth to find the words vanished before they could be spoken.

The awkward silence was interrupted by the arrival of the bucket to provide them with something to do. Saska held a pitcher as Hugo tipped the bucket to slosh water into it, both smiling at each other neither speaking. Water overflowed from the pitcher running over her hands and making her jump which made him jump. The pitcher and bucket both tried to topple over but both were saved by their young handlers.

Saska walked slowly backwards carrying the pitcher not wanting to turn away. Fayola had to grab her arm and spin her round, she leant in and whispered, “You need to talk to him.” Saska scowled and stormed off, she wasn’t ready to admit to her feelings.

Fayola caught up to her as they reached the first post, two foremen sat at a small round table, empty jugs before them. Saska carefully filled the jugs not wanting to spill any water. Marv opened his hand to show two pennies, his hand resting on his thigh so Fayola had to move closer as she bent down to take the money his free hand moved up to squeeze her breast, “We just got paid,” he whispered as his hand fondled her, “which means tonight you can earn a little extra again.”

Fayola collected the two coins and stood back up her breast pulling free from his hand, she smiled, “It will barely feel like work.” she lied.

Bernard reached out to Saska, his hand sliding up her dress to squeeze her rear, “Bring this one along.” he said licking his lips.

“She’s too young, you want someone who knows how to handle you,” Fayola said hoping they didn’t notice the look of terror in Saska’s blue eyes.

“Doesn’t take experience to bend over while I stick her.” He said with his eyes glistening.

“We have to go, plenty more jugs to fill, I’ll see you tonight.” Said Fayola as she pulled Saska out of his reach.

Bernard lifted his clay jug and then let it fall from his fingers it hit the edge of the table as it spun towards the floor to shatter. “Look at what the little clumsy smoke did.” He grinned as he spoke, “That will cost you a piece. But I’ll let you earn it.”

Fayola walked back towards him, “Well I’m sure I can find a way to earn it.”

“You’ve got tuppence in your hand and could earn tuppence on your knees, by my calculations that leaves you a penny short. But your sister,” His eyes slowly looked her up and down, “she could earn two pieces from me and I’m sure Marv would like a go too.” He held his hand out to Saska. “Come on child, you don’t want to get in trouble over a broken jug do you?”

Saska trembled as she walked closer, then once she was within reach Bernard struck like a snake grabbing her and pulling her towards him. Marv grabbed Fayola, pulling her onto his lap. “Guess I don’t have to wait for tonight.”

Bernard pushed Saska face down on the table nearly knocking off the remaining jug. One hand pressed her down as his other went to his shorts. “Don’t worry, she’ll be glad I got to her before those miners,” He said as he yanked his shorts open and pulled out his small hard member.

Fayola tried to rise but Marv held her fast.

Bernard grabbed the hem of Saska’s dress and pulled it up revealing her bare behind. Tears rolled down her face as she was pressed against the wooden surface. “She isn’t the first smoke I’ve had to break in.” He said as he slapped her rear like a horse, “And she won't be the last.” He added with a chuckle.

Fayola grabbed the clay jug and smashed it into Marv’s face behind her twisting as she did. Marv toppled backwards Fayola on top of him as they hit the hard floor. She jumped up as he lay moaning in the dirt. On his belt he wore a hunting knife, she grabbed it from the sheath without thinking and lunged at Bernard who was standing laughing, his member in his hand.

The blade sank into his chest his laughing stopped, replaced with a whooping wheeze as blood spurted from the wound.

“Oh fuck!” Cried Marv as he scrambled to his feet.

Fayola turned back to him, the knife left buried, turning Bernard’s white shirt crimson. “I…” she tried to explain, “He…” she tried again but couldn’t find the words as Bernard dropped to his knees still wheezing.

“You’re both dead!” Marv said as his hand grabbed Fayola’s throat squeezing hard. Her hands went to his wrists trying to pull them apart to wrench them off. He ignored her efforts tightening his grip. She started to feel the world fading around her, her limbs feeling heavy. Her fingers slipped from his wrists her arms falling to her side, her legs buckling. She closed her eyes as she felt everything slip away.

A loud bang snapped her eyes open. His grip seemed to loosen letting her breathe. His mouth fell open, his eyes wide and glassy. Then she saw the red on his chest spreading out over his shirt. His arms fell away and he collapsed as if his joints had been severed.

Slowly Fayola turned her head, beside her Saska held a revolver smoke swirling at its tip. At her feet lay Bernard, his holster empty. Saska’s stared in horror at Marv’s crumpled body. Fayola grabbed the gun with one hand, the barrel burning hot, her other grabbed Saska’s hand. Dragging her little sister Fayola ran for their tunnel.

Their father was already asleep after his night of mining, Fayola shook him awake till he groggily spoke, “Leave me alone.”

“We’re in trouble,” Fayola said unsure how to explain she pushed the revolver into his hands.

He snapped awake sitting up and hitting his head on the bunk above his making him wince, “Who?” He asked.

“Marv and Bernard. I couldn’t let them.” She said, “Not to Saska.” she babbled.

He dropped onto his knees and ripped open the mattress plunging his arm inside, “Head south, walk for a day, then head east till you reach the river, follow its course north, but not too close till you reach the coast.” He yanked a leather purse out from the mattress, it wasn’t all of their savings but the rest was buried.

“You can show us the way,” She said.

“No.” He got to his feet, “You need a distraction.” He pulled out the cylinder of the gun to count the bullets. It clicked back into place, “Now go.” He pushed the purse into her hand and started towards the tunnel’s exit.

“You can’t.” She wanted to tell him he would get himself killed, but she knew he already knew that “There must be another way.”

“Head south.” He repeated.

Fayola followed him out of the tunnel back into the daylight. Gunshots were not uncommon in the mine but the bodies would be found. They didn’t have long. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she was sorry. She remembered the last time they hugged, she was eight and grieving the death of her mother. In the seven years since they hadn’t hugged, Saska had hugged him, young enough that she would force a hug upon him without worrying how he felt.

He headed towards the little post where Marv and Bernard lay dead, the revolver in his hands, the sun shining on his bare back, his skin looking like black marble above the loose linen trousers.

Fayola struck out in the opposite direction, Saska in tow. They followed a path winding up the southern edge of the mine. Ahead of them, coming towards them was William, in khaki shorts, an olive shirt and a brown fedora. The girls walked with their eyes looking down trying to go by unnoticed. Their dresses were both splattered with blood.

On William’s hip was a curled whip, his hand squeezed the leather grip as his eyes scanned the girls. As they passed, his head turned to follow them, seeing the drying blood on Saska’s back.

A gunshot rang out, dragging William’s attention from the blood stains. Another shotgun blast and shouting and his hand moved from his whip and he scanned the pit. The girls sped up, trying to get away from him before he turned back. More gunshots and he started running down the path.

When they reached the perimeter fence the siren started to sound, it had been months since it last blasted out across the mine in response to a riot. They would huddle in the dark waiting for the siren to stop sometimes their father would be in bed other times they would pray for his return, he never took part, his responsibility was them, and getting himself killed in a failed revolt wouldn’t help them.

More guards passed at a run as they followed the fence looking for a gap large enough to squeeze through. With a spot found Fayola looked around for guards and then left the path, she pulled boards trying to widen a gap for her to pass. Wood scraped at her as she forced her way through. Saska followed more easily and for the first time in their lives, they were outside the mine.

They ran with the mine to their backs across the scrubland. Tears rolled down Fayolla’s cheeks as she thought about what they were leaving behind and the struggles ahead.



They reached the port hungry and thirsty, in the five days since they left the mine they had barely eaten and only dared approach the river bank under the cover of night where any militia could be located by campfires.

The port was busy with workers, loading and unloading boats while sailors drank at bars. The crowds gave Fayola the confidence to not need to hide in shadows, the purse contained almost ten shillings and one was enough to buy fresh clothes and a meal leaving her with nine to ensure passage.

She searched the bars finding anyone who might be able to smuggle them onto a boat, they laughed at the money she offered. She ran out of bars to search and men to ask she crouched in an ally and wept. She couldn’t bring herself to return to Saska and tell her they couldn’t leave.

“Perhaps I can help.” A voice came from behind her.

She spun around to find a man cigarette in hand, brown trousers with a tight white t-shirt that showed clearly defined muscles beneath. He had short black hair and piercing hazel eyes, a strong square jaw and full lips. Slowly he sucked on the cigarette and then breathed smoke up into the night sky.

“You’re a soldier?” She asked despite the answer being obvious.

“We are here collecting ore for the democracy, but looks like we will be one load down.” He took another drag, “We need help loading tomorrow, if someone happened to end up in the large empty crate then we probably wouldn’t notice.”

She rose to her feet and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Really? you could take me and my sister with you? We can’t pay much.”

“I think we can manage on whatever you can afford, it’ll be nice to have a little female company on the trip.” He said as his eyes moved over her body. “Just be at the dock nice and early and we can sort it all out then.”

She raced back to the street where she had left Saska, excited to tell her the news. Saska was curled up in a doorway, using their old dresses as a pillow. Fayola told the news in a jumble of words making both girls excited.

“Move over, we need to get some sleep if we are going to load ore into a boat tomorrow” Fayola said and joined Saska in the doorway.

“Will Father be here in time?” Saska asked.

Fayola squeezed her tightly, “Hopefully.” she said trying not to cry.



The morning light woke Fayola, one arm wrapped around Saska the purse of money clenched tightly in the fist of the other. They ran to the dock to find a queue of people standing before a small kiosk waiting for it to open. Fayola and Saska joined with about twenty people in front of them, many women and children.

An hour later the queue had more than doubled when the kiosk opened. Slowly the queue shuffled forward till they reached the front.

“Registration fee?” The man asked without looking at them.

“How much is it?” Fayola responded scared that they would find out they didn’t have enough.

He looked up at them, white whiskers on an unkempt chin and dry cracked lips made him look old and miserable. He sucked on his teeth noisily as he assessed them. “Five shillings each,” he concluded.

“I only have nine,” Fayola said desperately hoping he would allow them on.

His eyes squinted as he stared at her and then Saska, “Fine” he relented.

Sighing Fayola counted the money out, he handed them a slip of paper that Fayola could not read. They stood in silence waiting for instruction, all he did was make a clicking sound with his mouth and point his head to the side and they walked past towards the boat.

Sacks of ore were tipped from carts, Fayola could barely lift one alone, she and Saska carried each between them. The boat was old, with no obvious military markings, a converted fishing boat. The middle of the deck was open, giving access to three large wooden crates beneath, within the first two crates were muscular black men to catch the heavy sacks and pile them up.

As the morning wore on the crates slowly filled the men rising as they filled layer by layer. Saska and Fayola were exhausted taking longer and longer to move the sacks. She saw no sign of the soldier she had met in the ally. More carts delivered more sacks and the heat beat down on them. Long after midday, the first crate was filled while the second had room for a couple more layers.

The man who had been arranging the sacks started to nail a giant six-foot square lid to the crate with heavy chains attached. The second crate was filled while there were still sacks to load. With no one to receive the sacks in the third crate, they were dropped in, some splitting on impact and spilling the shining rocks onto the floor. With less than a dozen sacks left Fayola and Saska picked up what they calculated to be their last. The crate was six feet deep, with sacks and rocks covering the floor to a depth of two feet on the near side trailing down to one on the far. Other workers were beginning to climb inside Fayola and Saska tossed in their last sack and climbed down onto the rough surface.

Thirty of them squeezed into the space, sitting on the sacks and rocks as the lid was placed over, thin shafts of light seeped through the gaps in the wood. They listened as the nails were driven in place, Fayola and Saska huddled together in the darkness barely able to see each other. They all waited in silence waiting for the boat to move, for them to begin their journey to a new continent and a new life. Women hugged children, a baby clung to one’s chest.

Eventually, the boat lurched, a horn blasted and the voyage had begun. “I’m thirsty” whispered Saska.

Fayola stroked her dry cheek, “Once we are far enough from the coast the lid will be removed and the kind soldier I told you about will bring us fresh water.” she said quietly, wishing she had bought some water with her. “Try to sleep.”

Saska fell asleep and Fayola watched the shifting rays of light, watching them darken as night approached. A child cried and their mother tried to soothe them, the stray whisper was heard but nothing louder, as they sat in the darkness, uncomfortable and thirsty with the boat rocking as it travelled.

Exhaustion overcame Fayola and she found a sleep in which arid dreams lurched from side to side. She awoke with a parched mouth, Saska still asleep on her. The sun was out, the shafts of light illuminating their small dwelling. The crate was hot, the heat of their own bodies trapped inside as the sun baked the top.

Children complained of hunger and thirst, and the smell of heat was mixed with urine. Fayola closed her eyes and tried to black it out. The lid had not been removed and she knew it would not be, the kind soldier had let her pay for her own death, nine shillings for the both of them. She wondered if it was just to get people to load the boat, disposable labour.

The journey continued the heat was unbearable children cried meekly, mothers soothed but their voices full of despair, Fayola wasn’t the only one who had realised their fate. The baby remained silent, Fayola wondered if they had been the first to succumb. She had watched the nails used to secure the lid, forcing their way out would only sap the little energy they had.

By the second night, the silent tomb was beginning to claim victims, and families seemed to give up at once, passing together. Fayola stroked Saska’s head trying to keep her asleep, in the vain hope that they could survive the journey and at the far end there would be water.

Fayola lost track of time, she awoke in the daylight and thought she might be the only one alive, and then she felt the slight push of Saska’s breath. The sound of nails being wrenched from wood came from above, they were releasing them. Fayola almost smiled as the lid lifted up and bright sunlight flooded the crate.

“Please.” She managed to say, the word hurt her throat.

“We’ve got one alive down here.” Came a voice from above.

“Tough fuckers some of those slaves.” She thought she recognised the voice as the soldier from the ally. “We’ll clear them out tomorrow.” He said and the lid went back down. It no longer needed nails, Fayola couldn’t stand.

She closed her eyes and expected to die, Saska’s pulse was so weak she doubted she would awaken.

A loud bang forced her awake, and then gunfire followed, she didn’t realise she had enough energy to feel fright but her heart beat faster. The heat and smell assaulted her keeping her disorientated she couldn’t tell from the shots what was happening.

Silence fell and then the lid lifted, despite the blinding light she saw a republic soldier raising the wood as her eyes closed again.