JOURNAL OF A SLAVE

Journal of a slave
The journal is based on the voice of a new slave that is taking place at the edge of the American Revolution in Charleston, South Carolina during mid-1700s. He had just been bought by a wealthy farmer owning a vast rice plantation in the coastal belt of South Carolina. During his arrival, he seems stubborn and determined in his decisions and is helped by other slaves to calm down and adapt to the environment. He works with a large number of fellow slaves because of the large rice plantations that required organized labor. The 21-year-old slave had been captured from his home in Gambia at his prime age about to marry and is very bitter about it. The new slave spends his days working in the rice fields for his master. This journal highlights the significant events in the life of this slave from the time of his capture and life during the American Revolution.
September 13, 1752
I am on my new master’s carriage going to his plantation, and this is the first peaceful time I have to remember the events since my capture. The past few months have been rigorous and fast for me trying to adjust and understand what was ahead of me. The journey from my home, Gambia, where I think I will never set foot, has been full of hardships and torture from our captors. The struggle and the believe that we could escape initially had landed us to lots of merciless whippings as this angered our captors. With many wounds the pain in the sea was unbearable, the nights were long and cold and painted with fear, anxiety and wailing from women and children.

My blood and nerves grow cold as I remember these scenes despite the day being sunny and heat was fair. I dreaded the memories and was constantly thinking of how I was going to escape. When I arrive, the master’s house was away from the plantation and saw other slaves who had already adapted to the place. I try to be rebellious but later was talked down against it, and after some whipping, I relaxed and waited for my directions.
The room I was given was small, and the beddings were terrible, and we shared the small room with four other fellow slaves who helped me understand and prepare for the work that was beginning the following morning. It was my first night in relatively warm beddings, and I took this chance to harness my energy and relax for the first time since my capture.
November 15, 1752
It has been two months or so now, and I have started getting used to the everyday routine and understanding the rice farming. It was hard at the outset, and the overseer was not merciful at all and therefore, I had to learn fast. My master had only come one to the plantation to check on a few slaves to be sold but was not concerned about the laborers since he had an overseer for that. There have been some stories in the plantation about the American Revolution that was going on and was interested. I asked one of my brothers to explain to me about the progress, and he described to me how the slaves had been fighting for freedom and rights. I also learned that we were captured by Europeans that settled in the North and the country. From the discussion, it appeared that the natives were fighting for the British colonizers to leave their country. After finishing the duties in the evening, I decide to go and have a chat with an older man who had been a slave for the past three years. He had interesting stories that helped me pass the time and forget my trouble and to understand the lay of the land. He told me how they had escaped several times but were caught because they escaped in groups and were therefore easily traced. I took notes as the idea of escaping was still at the back of my head, despite my friend advising me over and over not to try; that it was a waste of time. But I always nodded and when I went to bed, the only way I could calm down was when calculating how I will escape from the plantation that was exhausting and inconsiderate overseers.
December 24, 1752
Christmas Eve is here, and everyone in the plantation is in a good mood, and the environment is ambient. I woke up late, and the sun has already risen, today we not going to work on the plantation. The master decided to give us a break for the Christmas festival. He was generous to promise some lovely food for Christmas this year. But I had secret plans in my mind. I have been planning for the past month on how I was going to escape from the hands of my master who was not going to free anybody anytime soon. Knowing that the following day everybody will be reluctant and inactive, I had decided that it was going to be my day to run far away from this plantation, three months has been long enough. Today, I don’t want to look suspicious, so I had to stay outside and mingle. I struggled to keep calm which I manage with a lot of effort. This explains my short entry.
December 25, 1752
I could not sleep during the night; my head was filled with doubts and many questions about what I was about to do. I wake up and prepare myself in secret while my roommates sleep I creep out and peep out into the darkness, and everything seems calm and clear. With my adrenaline high and my heart pumping fast, I decided to go for it despite every part of me telling me to remain. It had been awhile since any slave escaped because of the harsh treatment in the case that they were found. I run through the plantations falling into the rice paddocks as traced my way in the dark morning. The drizzles and fog of that morning added to the tension and fear that filled my person. By the time the sun was up, I was deep in the forest heading. I had heard of the British camps in the North that took Loyalist slaves to fight for them in the revolution; I had decided that it was better fighting and struggling rather than toiling all day with a master that did not care. During the day while hiding and trying to go as far away from the plantation as I could, I managed to trace my way to a place I heard was a camp for some European soldiers under Lord Dunmore.
It was at around 8 pm that gloomy evening that I saw the sign of a campfire and uniformed men and saw some hope. Knowing that one could be harmed by the soldiers thinking he was an intruder, I carefully surrendered and told them that I preferred to fight rather than work as a slave. The commander took me to the camp, and despite the hardship, we faced as slave soldiers in the camp, it was better and gave us a purpose. This was going to be the beginning of a new adventure, hopefully, more positive and optimistic than the previous one.