Forbidden Journey South

The sky is dark as we wade in the river. Thick mud squishing between my toes with every step I take. The wind picks up bending the trees to its will. I grab the woman's hand behind me and motion for her to do the same to the man behind her. We form a chain to keep from being swept away. Thunder crashes above us. Lightning flashes across the dark sky. A child perches on my shoulders. His tiny hands are like vices in my hair. Silently we must continue on. They all know what is at stake if we are caught.

Our lives will hang in the balance as our Masters decide if we should die or be punished near death. Everyone except me is making a run to freedom. Running for a chance at a better life across the border in Mexico. Mexico abolished slavery and refused to agree to send escaped slaves back to their owners. I am one light on the long path to freedom. The heavens open and rain pours down. I decide that it will be safe for us to return to the bank. We can cover the last two miles faster this way. The slave catchers will be unable to find us this night. These people will be safe. One day I will be able to join them across the border. When the white man is no longer supreme. As for now I lead these people to the next safe house before crossing the border.

The family I escorted is now hidden inside the safe house. They will be in the freeland before the end of the month. With the rain shielding us our time was much sooner than expected. I pick up my pace as I head home. The rain continues so my run home will be much shorter as I cut through the forest. I will be able to sleep before the sun rises. Master will not require my services until he returns from fetching his new bride. Another breeding whore for his quest at an all white heir. He has already married twice before. Both women were unable to provide him with a living heir. He began to take liberties with my sister after his first wife died. His ego is boosted everytime his seed takes root in her womb. I resist the urge to break his neck everytime he forces another child into my sister's womb. He has defiled her for so many years. Nine boys she has carried for him. I watch her everyday as she plays his game with him. I see the pain in her eyes knowing that she cannot be with her husband while Master has her. He moved her into the big house after she bore his first son. Master refuses to let their children live in the house with her. He sent all of them out into the quarter with her husband. I never could understand why he would raise them. How I wish I was in a position to put an end to their suffering. One day I will bring him down. His life will end by my hand. For now these people need me. I am their guiding light on a long path to freedom.

I woke before the sun. Stretching my aching muscles I remove myself from the floor of my home. My younger siblings still sleep on the tiny bed I fashioned from cast off wood the Master allowed me to have. My heart clenches at their tiny faces. They have never experienced the luxury we had in Nigeria. A country that belonged to the black man. White men too weak to work for themselves came in the night and kidnapped us. Robbed us of our land, homes, families, and our livelihood. They stripped us of everything. They packed us on ships so tightly we could not move. Death stood over us waiting to shepherd us to the other side. When we arrived in America we were auctioned off to work for even weaker white men. Men who never touched the soil they called their own. Men whose hands were soft like babies. My brothers and sisters did not know the beauty that was our homeland. They were born into this tyranny. They did not know freedom. Yet before breath leaves my body I vow we will leave this place. I will see that they know what it feels like to wear freedom. To wake up and belong to no one but themselves.

I head to the Big House to move the firewood for Ada. Ada is an ancient woman that most would overlook. She is much stronger than most people know. She has worked for Master's family since before he was born. Most would have cast out a woman this old by now but Ada was something special. Not only could she cook but she was a skilled healer. She saved Masters life when we were all sure the sweating sickness would claim his life.

"Boazi, kijana wangu. Usiku mrefu jana usiku?" (Boaz, my boy. Long night last night?) Ada chuckles as she greets me when I enter the kitchen house. She uses her native tongue to avoid being understood by the white men who will rise soon. She hands me a cup of coffee.

"Ndiyo, bibi. Mvua ilinipa usingizi niliohitaji sana." (Yes, ma'am. The rain granted me some much needed sleep.) I sipped the coffee as she handed me a piece of stale bread.

"Nilikuambia mvua itanyesha. Mifupa hii ya zamani inahisi inakuja." (I told you it would rain. These old bones feel it coming.) Ada stoked her fire as she started to prepare breakfast for the Big House. "Mwalimu analeta nyumbani mwanamke wake mpya leo." (Master is bringing home his new woman today.)

"Natumai anaweza kumzaa mtoto wa kiume na atamruhusu Rebeka arudi Magnus." (Hopefully she can birth him a son and he will let Rebekah return to Magnus.)

"Nina shaka atamruhusu aende zake. Unajua wazungu hawa walivyo. Mara tu wanapodai kitu huwa wanakiacha mara chache sana." (Would she even want to return now? Besides I doubt he will let her go. You know how these white men are. Once they claim something they rarely .) Ada grunts as she lifts the oatmeal pot onto the fire.

"Amezungumza nami kuhusu kuondoka bila yeye." (I'm not sure. Magnus has spoken to me about leaving without her.) My heart went out to Magnus. They were barely married when Master snatched Rebekah from him. They had been in love for sometime before her father granted they marry. Rebekah was allowed to see Magnus until Master became consumed with jealousy. He threatened to sell Magnus. Rebekah begged for him to be allowed to stay. She convinced Master that Magnus would protect their half-breed sons.

"Atawachukua watoto nashangaa?" (Will he take the children I wonder?) Ada shuffled over to the table and sat down. "Amekuwa baba mzuri na mkarimu kwao miaka yote hii. Bora zaidi kuliko wengi wangekuwa nayo." (He has been a good and kind father to them all these years. Much better than most would have.)

"Kwa kweli simjui Ada." (I honestly don't know Ada.) I finish my coffee in silence as the world wakes up. The sun is just starting to bless the sky with its light. You can hear the field hands marching to the field singing softly. Their song is nothing but a whisper in the morning air.