Prologue

Fourteen years ago, in the tribe of Ganyanga, a young girl was born to one well-respected couple. Her mother, Ramla, was skilled in the art of cloth making and her father, Dalmar, was a strong, courage's warrior who swore to protect his family within a breath of his life.

This was forty-nine rains ago when all was well. The young girl was born healthy and was foretold to be as skilled as her mother. The whole tribe welcomed her.

As the eldest child of her family she would have many responsibilities but Allah (SBWA) would help her along the way.

Eight days after her birth she was given the most beautiful name, Fana. Named after the great light and joy she would bring to her family and all the other people she knew. There were celebrations and many congratulations for the happy family.

She was, and is a proud young girl, with a stubbornness and curiosity that could get her into mountains of trouble. It was to get her through the toughest of times. Though she would not always have a shoulder to cry on, she knew she could believe in her self.

Little did they know that not very long in to the future, only fifteen moons. The young girl that they celebrated the birth of would go missing and they would morn her loss greatly.

Her mother, true to her name constantly reminded her to be strong and good willed. With the mind of a fortune teller she knew her life was not meant to be easy.

She would take her light and brighten new lives. Her adventures had just begun. The mischief she would get into is amazing though she may end up far from home. She would always become better and stronger.

This is the story of a young girl named Fana. This is my story.

Chapter 1

It all began when I was eighteen rains old. My younger brother had just gotten back from manhood training so ma and I were going to visit him.

He had his own hut made of mud and rock. I wish I could do this as well but as a woman I am expected to cook and clean. I have to stay at home and am never allowed to go out and go hunting or swimming. I silently fumed but as soon as my younger brother came into view I could do nothing but smile at how much he had grown.

The village was having a celebration for all the young boys that had just become men. Of course since I was one of the older girls I was now expected to go and cook and help the rest of the women get ready for the celebration. How was it fair that the men go and celebrate while we have to cook first and only then can we celebrate with them? Our legends say that women created the flame and foodstuffs but not those they were doomed to prepare it for the rest of eternity.

After an age of sitting next to a burning fire and cooking the meat that the new men had hunted we finally got to go and enjoy the celebration with the rest of the village.

After the celebration I went to sleep with my mother into our small hut. I stayed in bead pondering about what I would do in the village after this. I would be expected to get married and have kids.

My mother wanted to get me married and move out but I did not want to. I wanted to be free of my own children. I loved looking after other children but having my own children would be too difficult.

It was so quiet until I heard a rustle in the leaves and the sound of footsteps. Slowly I stood up and walked outside to see what was going on. As soon as I walked outside I felt someone grab me and cover my mouth with his or her hand. I screamed and tried to struggle.

I heard the person growl in my ear to shut up or they would take my mother as well. I stopped struggling and sobbed silently. Whatever they do they couldn't take my mother.

They took me to a group of other people that they had rounded up from my village. I saw a group of young children crying in a small group huddle. I ran to them and started to calm them down. I reassured them that it would be okay even if I weren't sure about that.

I noticed another girl combing a girl's hair and calming her down. I recognised her as Ashanti, true to her name she was fierce and strong. I slowly walked over to her and said hello. She looked up at me and smiled. I knew that together we could get through this.

The man behind me yelled at us to get moving. He shoved one of the young children. I ran over to them and yelled at them to be gentle with the young ones. He raised his hand to slap me but before I knew it Ashanti was in front of me to stop his hand. The man growled and roughly tugged his hand away. He yelled something to one of the other men. I recognised the marks on his arms and the clothes. It was a tribe that I knew. I gasped and started herding the children in the direction they were telling us to go.

As soon as we got to their village they threw us into a mud hut and left us. The young children were crying of hunger. I pulled out a small piece of meat I had saved and split it between the children. There was not nearly enough and I felt bad for not having more. Ashanti and I put the young children to sleep before we went to sleep ourselves.

Chapter 2

The next morning I heard the door to the hut open. She scurried inside holding small meal for us. She smiled softly and put the food down. I begged her to tell us why they were doing this. He looked around as to make sure no one was watching before she whispered to us.

She told us about the white men and the things that they bring. Nice cloth and this drink that makes the men act weird. It makes them violent and crazed. The women try to stop them but they do not listen and instead they hit the women. She was sobbing with silent tears. It was only then I noticed that she had marks on her arms. Ashanti came up to the girl and clamed her down.

The girl gave us a bit more food and smiled at us. Then yelling was heard from outside she answered and ran out. We split the food to the children and then gave some to the other women there. They thanked us; we took the few remaining morsels.

It was barely enough. We sat in the hut for a few more hours before we were forced out.

I saw the white men. They had skin pale as cockle shells and eyes the colour of the water. They came up to us and snapped metal bracelets on out arms and neck. I struggled but not before I felt a searing pain on my back.

The children were also being forced to wear these. They forced us into a fast walk and I could see the men taking the cloth and drink. I wished the misfortune of Allah on them as they jeered and laughed at us. I screamed when the men hit me and told me to be quiet.

The journey was long and tiring, the children would cry at night and the other women were exhausted. They didn't let us slow down; instead they made us walk faster.

They were so cruel, instead of treating us like the humans we were they treated us like animals. Punishing us and forcing us to eat so we didn't starve. They even punished the children, whipping them without a second thought. Through the children's screams and cries they continued torturing them until they were quiet.

The one time Ashanti tried to stop them she was whipped and beaten mercilessly. Every time one of us stopped walking the neck chains would bring pain to all of us so our speed had to be exact. I could see others from the nearby villages helping them but every time I would say something they would punish me.

We walked for days, the white men feeding us regularly but punishing us with whips continuously. At least before we saw the endless riverbank and the white men's giant canoe house.

Chapter 3

The white mans canoe was beautiful on the top deck. Sunshine shone down and the smell of the endless river made the top feel like paradise. But, we weren't being kept there. Instead they forced us under deck in to a disgusting hole. They chained us together; there was not enough space to breath or move.

The smell was horrendous, and it just got worse as we started moving. No one was used to the weird swaying of the canoe house. The children were the first to get sick.

They vomited out the food the men gave us and cried all night. Still they punished the children for not eating. They would burn their mouths with hot coals and even whip the young ones. The children would cry but the white men were cruel. Never even spearing the children. They didn't even think of them, or any off us a people. We were fed dull meals of mush and the children despised it. The meager portions of meat were a delicacy but they would not let us give it to the children.

After the storm that hit the canoe house I was terrified. The ship moved so violently some of us were smothered. Ashanti and I tired to shield the children but a lot of them died. The day after the storm the men took us all up on deck, they took all the sick and dead and threw them into the endless river. The women and children screamed as they drowned in the infinite lake.

Then they washed the rest of us with water, they had to have put salt in the water because it burned our skin. We cried out in pain but they didn't stop until the grime was gone of our bodies.

The started some weird thrumming sound and one of the white men started to do something that made him look like a dyeing bird. I snickered when I realized it was their dancing. Suddenly a whip appeared as they forced us to dance with them. I thought about my family back home and that I would do everything to get out of these chains.

Chapter 4

We were forced out of the white mans canoe house after the horrendous, exhausting, perilous journey. We were forced into a crowded dirty cell before we were given a bit of food and water. Close to us another cage was placed. Only after did I realize that next to there was another group of Africans, men, they were warriors and children. The warriors, they would do something. They could stop these cruel spirits of cruelty.

The next day they ripped us out of the dark hovel they had kept us in. I struggled as hard as I could but the whipping began again. I heard the man in front yell at the men for something before the whippings stopped. I stopped struggling out of pure shock. Was it over, were they going to leave me alone. The man in front had weird hair, as pale as his skin. He slowly circled me and I froze, taking a brush he dipped it in some black liquid before slathering it onto my cuts and scars. I screamed as it burned. Struggling as he kept on lathering it on before forcing me back into the dark, dirty cage. I screamed at them to let me but they didn't listen.

All my hopes were shattered when the men did nothing. Many of them not even struggling against the pale skinned demons. The few that did failed to have any effect on the white men. I watched in horror as the few children left alive were treated with the same amount of cruelty.

Soon we had been put on a platform for everyone to see. The men stared at me as I was forced on to the platform. After what felt like years of waiting as people yelling, I was given to a man who forced me away to somewhere so different from my world, it drove me mad. I was leaving behind these children that were alone and a friend that I had just made.

Chapter 5

It amazes me that I have been able to survive here for three years without giving up. When I first came here they decided to change my name, the only thing I had left. I have a Christian name now; I am to be called Anne.

I am lucky enough to live in the house and not on the plantations. I do work around the house cleaning, sweeping and looking after the children. Not many of the children are nice, but they have a son named Daniel.

He does not seem to agree with the slave ownership, but he does not live here. He is a year older than me and has his own plantations, but I have heard him arguing with his father about paying the slaves and stopping the whippings.

He came to talk to me yesterday, explained to me that groups of people are trying to stop the slave owners, he seemed kind enough.

I have learned the language of the white men and have discovered that we live in an area called America. They enslave people if they have a darker skin colour. The thought of such a cruel separation scared me.

Yesterday there was a whipping that we were all forced to watch. All the man had done was forget to shut the door and he had 21 lashes given to him by another slave.

Not all of us are treated equally. Some of us have even gained our freedom. Others are favorites and instead of getting lashes they give them.

When I am not working I do not do much, on the plantations you can hear the singing and the easily forgotten pain. The house is scary and lonely, and I must be alert for my mistress, if that is what you would call the pale, beauty obsessed woman that I must serve.

Chapter 6

I just couldn't take it any more. It had gone to far, the whippings, the days of toil and the loneliness.

For months I have been dreaming of the fact that now my chains I can leave. I could run away and they could not stop me. I knew it was soon going to be time as I sat in the few minutes of rest I had in the day.

That night I packed my bag and got ready to leave. By my bag I mean a blanket in which I had packed a stale piece of bread and a jacket I stole from my mistress.

I should have known better. Nearly as soon as I had left the alarms went of and I was running in the snow, as fast as I could.

I was captured and stuck in a hole alone with no food for three days. I cried and cried. Soon chains were once again placed on my feet and I had to work while wearing them.

The months following this I was constantly punished. Whipping and whippings later a revolution happened. The rest of the slaves rose against the white men but were stopped so quickly it was ridiculous.

I was punished and since I had run away just I while ago I was killed. I don't really remember my death just that I was strung up on a tree, gasping for air...then nothing. At least I knew I was not leaving anything behind.

Hopefully, if you read this you will realize, judging someone for his or her face, beauty or skin will never help. It will just destroy more innocent lives like mine, and other who died with me.