I had just escape from the brutal sugar cane estate. I had swum through the rough and unforgiving waters, I was soaked but yet relieved as it took away the foul smell of slavery from me. It was the first time I had gone beyond the estate. I didn’t have to the slightest clue to where I was or where I was going but I knew there was no turning back now this was the freedom I wanted and also an experience.
The place I was in way nothing like the estate where there was the sight of black men being whipped by masters, seeing the endless estate of only sugar cane and factories or even the buildings and ships the master owned. From the blisters in my hands I remember all the hard labor I did, cutting cane, carrying the heavy load on my back for how many years or the scars on my back that reminded me of the master’s brutal whip.
The only sound I could remember was the masters shouting or the sound of the whip. Working in the brutal sun for hours, you could taste the bitter sweat in your mouth and at times I was thirsty, I would just swallowing the little spit I had in my dry mouth. After being in the estate for so long, we got accustom the smell of sugar to the point where it was no longer sweet, it was probably stained with the smell of blood from the whippings.
Instead here was strange. There were no man in sight, trees that seemed to reach to reach the clouds, they were so tall that they blocked the blazing sunlight from entering. The grass here was unlike the sugar cane, some were razor sharp and some made my skin itchy and red. Here smelt fresh like the morning dew, even the sweet scent flowers overpowered the atmosphere. I had now remembered what a sweet scent truly was. There were also strange noises some in which echoed through the entire forest and then there were the citers of the night even the waterfall tumbling down the cliff could be heard.
After walking a long distance, I soon spotted a small alive village through the bushes,