An Account of an African American Slave

An Account of an African Slave

Monday, 24th May 1654: Today, I boarded a ship along with hundreds of my brothers by Europeans. I am certain that ours is the first of many shipments to come. We go to the Americans, apparently our own African brethren have been selling slaves to Europeans, some even trade them for rum, clothing or weaponry. It is not a shocking turn of events seeing as how we are at traditional war with neighboring peoples, and weaponry is scarce. It is exporting manufacturing and other goods to the west coast of Africa. I learnt all this from overhearing the sailors during their meal time. These manufactured goods are evidently traded for slaves and brought over to Europe to be sold as kitchen maids and workhorses. I hear that these occupations are more respectful than others. I have heard that the journey to America by ship may take almost a month. I have gathered that the majority has literally been dragged out of their homes to be presented to the European traders. We were all checked thoroughly before selling, whether out body had induced any fractures or if our teeth were in satisfactory condition. We were even checked for diseases and those with faulty bodies were filled with chemicals to make them presentable. From what I understand, the diseased did not recover, but died a quicker death, to which the traders remain completely indifferent. The hundreds of gallons of rum are more valuable to them than any human life they could save. Conditions aboard are such that there is no breathing space, we have all been crammed together and denied space, food or even fresh air. The atmosphere can be imagined, it is miserable here and the inhumanity of these slave traders ...