A Trader's Tale by Emily
A Slave's Journey by Lotte
At last, we were half dragged onto a mammoth vessel bigger than any spindly canoe I had ever seen back at my home in Africa. I could feel the slaves I was chained to trembling as a stiff leather whip cracked my back until I was blue with bruises. I saw my mother looking agonised from the deck of a neighbouring ship. That was the last time I ever saw her. As the dirty iron chains rubbed my sin red raw, a cockroach crawled over my sore bare feet. Dust and dirt infected my deep wounds but I remembered being whipped and promptly shut my mouth. The evil crew screamed at us in a rough tongue I did not understand. A few of the more fluent adults started up our tribal dance and I joined in proudly until I realised the crew’s smiles were actually sneers. I shut my aching eyes tight to block out the terrible suffering around me but the smells and sounds of torment roared on inside my head like a night mare, as finally the shout came to head below deck. M0ving from the sweltering heat to the di
This is very interesting. You, and your classmates writing on the same theme, present a very good account of the voyage from the perspective of the slave traders, who believed that they are acting humanely and treating the slaves well. This is in sharp contrast to the accounts of the slaves themselves. The language used by slave and trader in describing the same event tell us very different stories. Thank you for this insight.
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