Red Blood

Chapter One: Jamaal

The Oryx snorted and stamped its hoof. I crept closer and picked up my bow. My heart was beating as wildly as one of dad’s goatskin drums. I’d been tracking the Oryx since dawn, that was half an hour ago, and had constantly been on the move, sometimes hiding and smearing myself with dung to mask my scent. Now my prey was taking a drink. It was the perfect opportunity and my first big kill. I wasn’t going to miss. Carefully I notched an arrow to my bow and aimed it at the creature’s heart. I hoped it would be a clean kill, then the Oryx wouldn’t feel anything. The Oryx lifted its head and I let the arrow fly. It whistled through the air and thudded into the creature’s chest. The Oryx fell to the ground and I hurried forwards to inspect it. A clean kill, just what I’d wanted. I pulled out my knife and whistled. Responding to my signal, five men stepped out of the shadows behind me and pulled out similar knives. Oba, their leader, stepped forwards to inspect the kill, just as I had done. After a minute of checking he nodded. The other four leapt forwards and began to gut the Oryx. The rest would be done back home. Its hide would be used for blankets, rugs and tent material. Its bones would go forward to make glue and whistles and its horns would go for hunting horns. The hooves would be used as playthings for the young children and the rest would be shared out to the tribe depending on age and family size. But for now we had to get it safely back to camp. The four that had gutted it, impaled it on a long stick and heaved it onto their shoulders. Oba and I were left to take the organs. These also would be shared out at camp, but most were saved for the elders. I scooped some into my quiver and stuck my remaining arrows down my belt. I would have to ask mother to weave me a new quiver. This one would be stained with blood. Oba nodded at me and we began the trek back to camp.

Once we got back we handed the cut-up Oryx to Naasir and Elewa to finish and gathered at the verge of the woods. Then Oba began to talk in his deep, gravelly voice. “You all know why we are gathered here,” he began. “Tomorrow your manhood training begins. I have been preparing you, enlightening you for what is to come. On Monday, Kanja began his test. It was to track, simply track, one animal from dawn to nine o’clock. He chose a Duiker, and he passed. On Tuesday, Odion had his test. This was to capture a bird, without injuring it or killing it, without the use of a weapon. He passed, but closely. On Wednesday, it was Imaans turn. He had to use extreme skill with his bow and arrows and shoot a bird from above. Despite the difficulty, he passed. Again, it was very close. On Thursday, Liu was tested. His was a test of courage. We moved a goat close to where a leopard was. Of course, the leopard attacked. Liu drove it off, he passed. And today, of course, it was Jamaal’s turn. Tracking and killing is one of the hardest things to learn, my boys. But you NEED TO KNOW IT!” We all jumped and Oba sighed. “Of course, Jamaal passed.” He continued. “I have done what I can for you, boys. Now I must leave you. You have proved yourselves worthy. Any more preparation is considered cheating.” He turned on his heel and stalked away. We all began to talk at the same time, an excited gabble of voices that rose over the treetops and drifted in the wind all the way back to camp. I hurried over to my best friend Odion. “Well done!” I congratulated him, clapping him enthusiastically on the back. “You too!” He replied. We smiled at each other. “I wonder what proper manhood training will be like,” pondered Odion. “It can’t be much harder than what we’ve just done. Poor Imaan, he got a real tricky test, I reckon.” “Yeah, well none of ours were a gentle breeze, were they?” I replied. “But I reckon your test was the hardest. It’s hard enough to shoot a bird, let alone track and capture it without hurting it!” Odion blushed, so I thought I’d better leave the subject alone. “Anyway,” I said. “It’s only two days till our proper training. Then we’ll be men!” The thought cheered both of us up. Then we said goodbye and went our separate ways. Odion had to mind the goats and I had to find a good log for dad’s drums and ask mum for a new quiver. Dad makes drums and trades them with the Ogwambi tribe down the river. Then he comes back with blankets, cooking skins and other things that were harder to make down here. It was a fair trade. I sighed and headed into the forest to start my jobs.

Chapter Two: James

The ship tossed and turned on the ocean, its great figurehead dipping in and out of the foaming chaos below it. All its crew were asleep in their wooden cabins. All was silent, until suddenly- BANG! There was an almighty crash and the ship was sent lurching across the water. I sat up and bent my head over the chamber pot, whilst desperately trying not to follow the ship’s movement and fall of my tiny bed. My name is James Becket and my father is a slave trader. He expects me to follow in his footsteps, though I don’t think I have quite the sea legs needed for his line of work. Anyway, I’ve never liked using slaves. Surely they have feelings? But whenever I mention that dad hits me so I try to keep quiet. Sometimes it just slips out, though. Tonight the sea was really rough and when I’d stopped vomiting I straightened up and hit my head on the cabin’s low wooden ceiling. Cursing, I lit a candle and staggered out of bed to find someone who shared my sleeplessness in this terrible storm. Surprisingly enough, that was a near impossible task. Most of the crew were experienced sailors who were used to this sort of weather. I wasn’t. After a while I decided to go back to bed, no one was awake at this time of night.

I was woken by father. He shook me until I sat up and groaned. “What?” I grumbled. The next thing I knew I was dangling in mid-air with all the breath out of my lungs. “A son should never,” Gasped dad, jabbing his finger into my chest, “address his father like that. Do you hear me, you little scumbag?” I nodded. “Then why do you never learn?” He hissed.
“Please, Dad!” I gasped. “I can’t breathe!” He snorted before dropping me painfully onto the floor. “Children were made of tougher stuff when I was younger.” He muttered. He crossed my cabin in one stride and pulled my chamber pot out from under my bed. A smile crept across his face as he studied the contents. “Speaking of tougher stuff,” he chuckled, “This doesn’t quite fit the description. So how about you spend the day with the crew. It’ll do you good.” 
“Please, Dad……” I began but then pictured what trouble I’d be in if I finished my sentence and stopped. Dad sighed. “I’m glad to see you’ve learnt some discipline, if not much,” he said “And I expect to see you up with the crew in five minutes time. We should reach Africa today, anyway.” Then he left. I groaned and began to get dressed.

Chapter Three: Jamaal

I hefted the log onto my shoulder and began to head home. The log was of good quality, not rotten but not too hard. And definitely not from a sacred tree .As I neared camp I heard screams and shouts. Something was going on. Something big. I jogged to the end of the trees, where I stood hidden, surveying the scene around me. Many women were wailing, but one voice stood out in particular, mother! That was all the evidence I needed to know something was wrong. I ran out of the shadow of the trees and over to her. “Mother!” I cried. “Why are you weeping? Has an elder died? What is going on?” Mother looked up at me and for a second she looked dumbfounded. Then she clutched me and howled. “Jamaal, my son!” She wailed. “We thought you were gone! Oh, my son….” 
“Mother!” I exclaimed. “What’s going on?” Father approached me, his face grim. “Haamid and Jabir were on there way back from hunting.” He explained. “They heard some people coming so they hid. Good thing, too. The people they heard were white men, coming to see where we were and how they could capture us.”  Father turned away from me and hid his face in his hands. “Manhood training is cancelled,” He continued, his voice slightly muffled. “But Father,” I protested, “It’s my go to become a man! Me and Odion and Kanja and Imaan and the others! We, we can fight! We’ll help you defeat these white men if we become men too!” Suddenly father was on his feet, looming over me. “Nothing,” He boomed, “Is more important that you’re life, Jamaal. NOTHING! D’you hear me?” I nodded meekly. Father bent down. “Perhaps it would be better if you went to the hut,” He whispered to me. “Odion can come to, if he must.” I nodded again, and scampered off to find Odion. Then we headed down to my hut together.

“So, what happened?” I asked Odion, once back in the hut. He sighed. “You know most of it,” He said. “Haamid and Jabir went hunting. They came back with the news that there were white people in the forest. We all thought they’d got you ‘cos you were out in the forest. That’s why everyone was wailing and your mum was so glad to see you.” I nodded. That made sense. “So, what is it with white men?” I asked. “Why is everyone against them?” Odion stared at me. “You mean you don’t know?” He said. 
“Know what?”
“Well…let’s see. Perhaps the fact that the whites take us for slaves and give those who betray us money?”
“No!” I gasped. “That’s, that’s terrible!” Odion nodded. “Now do you see what we’ve got against the whites?” 
“Yup!” 
“Perhaps we should go and see what you’re father’s up to now we’ve got that sorted out,” he said standing up. He strode out of my hut and I followed him.

Chapter Four: James

“Pull harder, boy!”
“Up the rigging! Come on, quickly!”
“Yer too slow, lad! Hurry up with it!”
I groaned. On dad’s orders I’d been working with the crew for three hours, and there was no sign of a break. It definitely wasn’t a sailor’s life for me. “Come on!” Yelled Harry, a member of the crew. “What you standin’ there dawdlin’ for, lad? There’s work to be done!”
 I was saved by a cry from up in the crow’s nest. “Africa! Cap’n, its Africa!” There was the sound of footsteps and then Captain Thomas Paver emerged from the hold. “Land Hoy!” He yelled. “Lower the anchor and we’ll send out a boat!” A couple of sailors hurried forwards to carry out his orders. The rest stood still. “James!” I heard a voice call. I turned to see dad pushing his way towards me. When he reached me he placed one hand on each of my shoulders. “James,” He began. “You know I took you along on this voyage to see how things were done?” I nodded. “Well, I’m sorry, but leave this bit to me. You can’t come, sorry lad.” I nodded again and tried to stop a smile spreading across my face. “It’s ok, Dad.” I said. “Your son needs to have total obedience, right? I’ll stay here and help the sailors.”
“Yes you jolly well will,” He snapped, suddenly the same old dad again. I turned to leave but he grabbed my shirt and pulled me up against him. “And if I hear that you disobeyed anything the crew tell you to do,” He hissed, “I’ll thrash you. I want total obedience.” And with that he dropped me and stalked away.

I’d been working hard for another two hours before the captain said we could have a break. Now I was sitting in the weak wicker chair bolted to the ground in front of my tiny writing desk. I wondered what dad was doing at this moment. Tying up slaves, probably. A harsh call from above rang out, summoning me to get up and get working. I was tempted to disobey until I remembered dad’s warning. ”If you disobey anything the crew tell you to, I’ll thrash you.” And that was not to be taken lightly. Last time dad beat me I could hardly walk for a week. So I’d learnt that it was best to stay out of trouble. “Boy! Up here, NOW!” There was the call again. I groaned and began to walk up the stairs.

Chapter Five: Jamaal

As Odion and I entered the clearing where the adult members of the tribe were having a meeting, father looked up. “Oh, good.” He said. “Boys, I’m going to” But we never got to hear what he was going to say. At that moment, at least fifteen white men burst through the trees, chanting things in there own language. “Jamaal!” cried father, but once again got no further. The whites interrupted him and he was carried away on a sea of hands. I wasn’t to know then that it was the last I’d ever see of him. The next few minutes were probably the most desperate of my life. Time passed in a blur of voices, hands and smells. I heard whips and guns. And every moment all I was thinking was that I hoped I got out alive. I was knocked off my feet by a stampede and lay there waiting. Suddenly everything turned very quiet. The battle was over, but who had won? I heard men, picking their way through the bodies, and then the clinking of chains. My heart swelled up and filled with fear and despair. The whites had won and I was destined to be a slave for the rest of my life. I rolled over and cried out. Then I felt a hot, searing pain on my back and a cold clammy neck ring was clasped around my throat. I was dragged and whipped from where I had fallen towards the seemingly never-ending sea. At the shore line at least twenty of us were pushed into wooden canoe-like structures and taken to a huge floating hut, something I had never seen before. I felt a sense of dread looking at this strange, towering thing. I was pushed onboard and again felt the hot searing pain on my back, worse than before, much worse. I screamed and that was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up in darkness. At first I thought I’d died and gone to hell, but hell wasn’t like this. Where was the fire? I groaned and turned over. Then I screamed. I was lying in a room full of people, all black just like me, all chained together. I could hear coughing, people praying and screams. But what hit me most of all was the smell. It was a sickening, putrid stink that hung in every corner of this dreadful chamber, making me gag. I groaned and my stomach heaved and spewed out white, acidy stuff with the same smell that hung around in the chamber. “Father!” I cried. “Mother? Kanja? Oba? Liu? Odion? ODION?” Then I began to cry as the truth hit me. I would never see any of them again. My cries echoed around the chamber, signalling the beginning of my new life.

Chapter six: James

I climbed back on deck and felt the fresh, salty air on my face. Everything looked perfect but I knew it wasn’t. Any moment now dad would return with a new batch of slaves, some of them my age, some even younger. This was what I hated most about the slave trade. No one ever caught me, put a ring around my neck and shoved me into the hold, did they? So why them? And what did colour of skin matter? Surely they were the same as us, just darker and educated in a different tongue and different ways? I sighed and looked out onto the continent spread before me. Africa. I’d heard so many stories, read so many legends about Africa, and here it was before me. For a second my body longed to jump into the shimmering sea and swim all the way there, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Dad would hit me and I’d never reach it, anyway. I wasn’t that a good swimmer. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of oars and I jumped. The slaves were here. Unlike the rest of the crew, who leapt forwards to help, I lingered back. I hated it when they arrived. They all screamed and moaned and I felt so piteous that it was all I could do to not grab the chain key and unlock them all. “On you go, you miserable lot ‘o niggers!” screamed dad. He nodded at a member of crew with a whip in his hand and he lashed out at the nearest slave, an African boy about my age. I heard his scream and saw red, hot blood pour down his back. Then the whole world tilted…….

I woke up to the sound of dad stomping around my room. I hugged my blankets tighter to me and pretended to still be asleep. Hopefully he would leave soon. Dad laughed. “I can see you!” He said. “What made you faint, eh? Can’t see some blood?” I felt myself colouring. “It’s just…” I mumbled. “What?” Said dad. “Well…. No. It’ll sound stupid.” I muttered. But dad shot me such a fierce look that I had to tell him. “It’s just… his blood was red,” I said. Dad chuckled. “What were you expecting?” He grinned. “Green blood? Blue blood?” I turned red again. Dad stood up. “Well,” He said, “If you’re such a sissy that you faint at blood, I’ll have to treat you like one. Stay in bed for the rest of the day. And don’t move.” I shuddered and nodded. Dad leant in close to me and whispered, “The boy’s name is Jamaal Abeo.” Then he gave me one of his evil smiles and sauntered away. I stared after him, confused.

Chapter Seven: Jamaal

Clink. Clink. I turned over as I heard the footsteps coming down the wooden ladder at the front of our chamber. We had been travelling on the white man’s floating hut for six weeks now, occasionally being taken above deck for a quick exercise. But that wasn’t as simple as it sounds. Only yesterday a man called Kani from the Filani tribe had jumped overboard to escape the terrible fate waiting for him in Britain. Now the floating hut had stopped moving and I could only guess that all the rest of our fates were waiting for us outside. Clink. Clink. The footsteps were here now. The man who had descended from the deck yelled something and all the others leapt forward. I felt a surge of joy in my heart as I realised they were unchaining us, but then my heart sank. It was only our feet. Me and the others were grabbed and shoved onto deck, and my eyes widened. We were at the biggest riverbank I had ever seen in my life, it was strange, too. It was made of an odd grey rock but like none I’d ever seen before. There were horses, men, women, and also some slaves! It smelt of horse dung and it was extremely busy. Before I could get a better look we were pushed off down the wooden plank, into the future, into the unknown….

SLAVERY WAS OFFICIALY ABOLISHED IN THE BRITISH EMPIRE BY THE SLAVERY ABOLITION ACT ON THE 28TH OF AUGUST, 1833. BUT SLAVERY IS GOING STILL ON ELSEWHERE AND YOU CAN HELP.

By Saskia Wootton-Cane
Age 11 
RGS secondary school
Year 7