Going Back

"My brother, do not go back to that whip. Do not go back where we sow what we do not reap. Do not go back to what is called a 'bed' yet not a bed. Do not go back to an empire or an estate that will crumble for we are no longer there to sustain it."

We cried and protested for freedom. We wanted our wish for the abolition of slavery to be granted. It was granted. They let us go, freed their chains of us. Ironically, a week later into our freedom we wanted to go back. Back to slavery, back to our life not what we cried for ignorantly. Freedom.

My master was correct. I had no life besides the one she offered me. Now there I was, running for my freedom but towards nowhere. My hands felt heavy without the chains. My stomach felt empty after eating as a free human being. The title of 'freedom' was not working well for me and others too, who had not confessed about it.

This is what we slaves were crying for. To be freed from being sheltered to having no shelter. To be freed from a home into the streets, to become homeless. Stupid us, we did not know what freedom was, just knew the word and image. We wanted the power to make our own decisions. That had our interests first. Yet when we got this power we wanted them (slave masters) to help us make decisions. To implement them. They would help us make decisions that would put their interests first and put us back to our former 'glory'.

My master always said, "You are working extremely hard and you are being fed. What more can one desire in life?" Those words now made sense to me as I was now out in the cold. No longer working extremely hard and not being fed. I was working for myself and feeding myself but it did not seem so. Maybe I needed some time to adjust to the element of freedom.

"We need to take up arms against our masters. There is a better life out there. We can live just like our masters but without these chains. We can build our empires, our farms, estates and legacy. Let's tell them we want our freedom diplomatically or we take up arms now." That were my fellow worker Peters' words every time we were put to sleep. In a simple sense, he was a freedom activist from slavery. My masters words would respond to Peters' words in an intrapersonal way, " You are working extremely hard and you are being fed. What more can one desire in life?"

   

" We can build our empire, our farms, estates and legacy." That was something we slaves desired and could only be attained by freedom. It was never my idea of 'freedom' but for people like Peter, it was. What was wrong with the empire we had helped our masters build? What was wrong with the farms we had helped plant, weed, and harvest? What was wrong with the estate we lived upon? Was there a problem with the legacy we were building and to pass forward? There was not any problem with that except for ungrateful workers like Peter.

Ironically, Peter wanted to be just like them. Peter despised their ethics but praised their position. The empire, legacy, life and estate he wanted to build through freedom would have been through the same ideas and means of the masters. The masters he wanted to take up arms against.

Now, Peter had what he wanted. Gave us what he wanted. Freedom. There it was in our hands but doing nothing with it. Expect to plan what we were going to do with it. The same thing we were planning to do before we got it. Just planning. If we were back at our masters', this would be what they would be saying, " Today is Tuesday. We shall spend the morning working together in the maize field, then in the afternoon we shall sweep around the estate together and in the first two hours of the evening we shall eat then grind the corn and finally we shall sleep."

Now that was a plan. Not, "Now we have freedom, let us think what to do....blah blah...mxm..lol." If there is anything that has to be done here is to go back to our masters and tell them, " We are sorry. Today is Wednesday. We shall spend the morning washing the laundry, then in the afternoon we shall wash all the farm animals, and in the first three hours of the evening we shall eat then grind the wheat and finally we shall sleep."

I was going back. Whether the others did not agree with me, I would. I would eat more food with fewer co-workers there at the master's house. Would sleep in a more spacious bed there. I was sure that I was going to work extremely hard and get fed better than I was as a free man. What more could one desire in life?

I made a groundbreaking announcement, " I am going back to the masters' house or estate tomorrow at dawn so that I can be able to reach there before the morning duties commence. Whoever is free enough will make this choice as I have and we can leave together at dawn. Thank you." The silence was there for a while. They looked at me as if I was a slave in the master's clothes or on the master's horse. But either way, decisions are decisions. It is what it is. I was going back.

At least I was going back somewhere. Than out here in the wilderness. Nowhere. These people wanted to go back but were victims of bandwagon propaganda. Now you have it, freedom, what are you doing with it? Do you want to become like the masters? Do you think it is going to happen in a day? Jealousy. Going back is the only way you can be like them.

" My brother, do not go back to that whip. Do not go back where we sow what we do not reap. Do not go back to what is called a 'bed' yet not a bed. Do not go back to an empire or estate that will crumble for we are no longer there to sustain it." Peter responded.

My mind was made up and I gave Peter and all those free slaves a final response, " What whip hurts more than the one that is striking you now? A whip of hopelessness. What are you sowing now that you will reap? Nothing? Are you sleeping on a bed now? The bed at the masters' or the concrete floor? You are despising the empire you help built so that you can deceive yourselves that you will build a new one. What resources do you even have? No cows, no land, no spade. It is you who will crumble. Join me to go back and ask for forgiveness or you will crumble in less than a week in your deceptive freedom."

I am sure that some of them had seen the bigger picture. The reality they were to face in this deception is called freedom. They had been surviving on handouts from strangers and it was never enough to take them through the day. Compared to the one evening meal they had at the masters' that would sustain them till the following evening. They had just forgotten about that meal on the belief and defense of freedom. What fools. No wonder why they were enslaved in the first place. They are quick to forget and can not think. Common sense is not common after all.

I could not believe that tonight was my last night sleeping on the concrete floor with my clothes to cover me alone. " We will leave with you tomorrow at dawn. There is a good number of us that believe in your idea to go back to the masters'. We shall leave with you to go back to the estate. There

is no life in freedom." It was a voice I heard in the dark and felt when it put its' left hand on my right shoulder. I was bringing a large number of people back to the masters. Surely the masters would let me ride the horse for a day for such work.

Dawn would not arrive anytime soon. When it did I was awake. So were several people that were ready for the journey. "Let's go. You should have been the first one up. Lead the way to the masters'. Today is Wednesday, we shall spend the morning doing the laundry, then in the afternoon we shall wash all the farm animals, and in the first three hours of the evening we shall eat and grind the wheat and finally we shall sleep." They all said it at once. Those who were forsaking the life of freedom to go back to real life. I was embarrassed by myself for being a leader who woke up late. I responded, "Let us go, shall we."

We walked in the dawn of the morning to get back to the masters'. We were already late because the sun was up and each day when the sun was up we would be working already. When we saw the estate we began to run towards it. Screaming in joy, " Masters we are back! Today is Wednesday. Where is the laundry? Are the farm animals ready for their wash? What time are we beginning to harvest the wheat so that we can grind it? " During the first shout, there was a rhythm and order. From the second shout, it was now like a war cry. We were silenced by several gunshots that came from behind the estate walls. Each gunshot was a kill shot. Yet we kept on running towards the estate entrance.

" They are back to evade the farm. Steal the produce and murder us all. Shoot to kill before they kill us all. Do not waste your ammunition. Kill them all. They are black-and-white rebellious property and we have the right to squash them all. Shoot." The Night Guard ordered the security.

No, we were back to work. Can they not hear us? " We are back to work, we are back to work, back to..." The sound of firing ammunition and wounded bodies screaming on the ground covered our message. It could not be heard. Each shot was directed to the head or the throat. I lay down 'dead' to save myself but the bodies next to me were dead. I was surely not going to ride the master's horse now.

The masters had the same skin tone as us. Those firing live ammunition had the same skin tone as us. Two bullets then struck me as I lay 'dead'

So much for freedom.