“Get over here, you useless girl! I don’t know why we ever decided to take you in,” shrieked Aunt Adowa. “Please sir, come and take a look at this girl. She is not bright, but she is strong and sturdy. She can work from sunup to sundown,” she spoke persuasively to the tall stranger. The man flashed me a sickening smile that turned my stomach. He then whispered something into my aunt’s ear. “Sir, that price is too low! She’s worth at least three days worth of wage,” retorted Aunt Adowa. The man stood firm like a native hardwood iroko tree. After a short, heated spat, a shiny coin was exchanged. This was the day that I was sold into slavery.

My name is Abiyomi, and I’ve been told my whole life that I am worthless. Since the day I was born, I was scorned upon. I was a burden, another mouth to feed. This is my story — my struggle for freedom, my fight for my life on a cocoa plantation.

I was only two years old when my parents died. My mom was the middle child out of thirteen children. All my relatives rejected me except for Aunt Adowa and Uncle Kwasi. The only reason they took me in was that they needed a farmhand to do the dirty work. They despised me.

The year was 1956. Everyone was poor in the Ivory Coast. Rain was scarce and the crops withered away in the burning sun. Food was in short supply and people went hungry.

The stoic stranger declared to me, “I am Marcel. You belong to me now.” He ordered me to pack up my few belongings quickly. Where was I going?

My aunt and uncle couldn’t hide their glee as they saw me dragged away and out of their lives for good. “Good riddance!” conveyed their sinister expressions.

 

To be continued…

-Mackenzie

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