The white man took my parents from Africa almost 60 years ago. They were sold to a plantation owner in Jamaica and were forced into slavery. They were lucky though; they were not split up at the slave market and were able to stick together. During their abhorrent years at the sugar plantation, they had me. I had no idea of the hard life I was to expect on the beautiful sugar plantation in Jamaica.
At the young age of four I started working alongside my mother in the field. I couldn’t do much then, but it was custom for slave girls to start learning the daily tasks then. There were many kinds of slaves. Not all were black like my family; some were European indentured servants, some were runaways without any place to go, some were old pirates that had been captured. As I grew older, my work varied. In my early teen years I worked in the field. Because I was a good slave girl, I moved to a higher status and was put to work inside the plantation house. There I was assigned domestic work, such as, washing the dishes and preparing meals. Some of my other girl friends on our plantation worked as midwives, housekeepers, stockers, and fielders. The plantation owner says he likes to have female slaves over male slaves, especially working in the field, because we have a lower mortality rate.
I hope to be a nurse one day on this plantation because that is the best job to have. Men get the most prestigious jobs, like carpentry and blacksmithing. Mrs. Mary Martha is expecting her first child soon and I would like to be the one to rear it and nurse it. I do love children, and I hope I can raise them so Master will teach me how to read and write so I can teach the children.
Master is a nice man, until one of his slaves does something wrong. Then he becomes a very mean man and will whip the bad behavior out of a slave. Mrs. Mary Martha doesn’t like it when he does that. Bless her soul, she is a lovely woman, but is very naïve. Almost every night Master sneaks into the slave quarters and pays one of the slave girls for prostitution acts. It is very common here. He even sometimes pays the slave girl. In Jamaica, the majority of domestic slaves are expected to support themselves through prostitution. I have never done this, I am too scared, but many do.
Many people here try to resist the slavery. It hurts me to see them tortured for trying freedom, but nonetheless they still fight. Many friends intentionally mess up their work or fake illness, but it just makes Master mad and he punishes them. Once things got really bad and a massive revolt brokeout. The local colonial government even became involved and hung over a hundred slaves.
The only thing keeping me strong here is my faith and culture. Women in the Caribbean are the reason religion and culture from Africa survived and was syncretized. To me, this is my form of resistance to slavery. They may have my body and make me work, but they cannot take away my faith, values, and heritage. While we cannot fully express our African culture, we do sing and dance and pass down and tell folktales of the past. Dancing is special to us. It is ceremonious and allows us to offer up prayers and freely express ourselves.
I fear that slavery will continue forever. I hope to one day gain freedom and start a family, but I fear that it will only happen within the confinement of slavery. I fear for my future children but and hopeful and optimistic that freedom will come in tomorrow’s sunrise.
*All information was drawn from:
Bush, Barbara. Slave Women in Caribbean society, 1650-1838 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990)
Bush, Barbara. "Hard Labor: Women, Childbirth, and Resistance in British Caribbean Slave Societies", in David Barry Gaspar and Darlene Clarke Hine, eds., More Than Chattel: Black Women and Slavery in the Americas (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1996), pp. 193–217.
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