Amistad Wahala
by
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Chapter 4 The Passage "They were taken aboard the Tecora, an American-built, Portuguese schooner to a village near Santiago De Cuba. The captain of the schooner Joshua McClapp was an American who frequented the Gallinas Island of Sierra Leone to transport hundreds of slaves to the west," Covey vividly recalled. "The slaves were bound together in chains and kept below the deck of the schooner. Metal chains, smeared with palm oil, penetrated deep tender black flesh. "'Oga-wa-wa, Ndehun-blaa! Oga-wa-wa! (Oh mighty God, Mama and the rest of my family! Oh Mighty God!) a young girl cried out in pain, exhorting her family to rescue her. She tried to sit up but couldn't because she was pinned down by the weight of the other slaves. "'Ndeeehun-blaaa! Ndeeehuun bbbb...,' she sobbed as she took her last breath and gave up the ghost. "'Woeyoe ya! Woeyuoe! Woeyuooe!' A litany of solemn and mournful cries erupted from the soul and hearts of men, women, and children below the deck. This was the funeral song sung by the surviving slaves as their dead relatives, friends, and countrymen were tossed overboard the Tecora to the ocean's abyss. Every time a cadaver was tossed overboard, that mournful cry of 'Woeyoe!' echoed in every corner below the dark dungeon of the Tecora," Covey recalled. This was the same old funeral song that Amelia Dawley, a woman from the Gullah community of coastal South Carolina and Georgia sang for Dr. Lorenzo Turner, an African American linguist in 1931. Solomon Caulker, a young student in the United States then, recognized the lyrics as Mende, a dialect from Sierra Leone, and identified it as a funeral song. This was the same song that survived 200 years of separation. This was the same old song that Baindu Jabati and the Mende people of Senehun Ngola, a little village in Bagbo chiefdom in the southern part of Bo, still sing today. This was the same ancient funeral song that conveyed the same meaning. "Woeyoe! Woeyuoe! Woeyuooe!" the slaves cried out as they sang their funeral hymns: Ah wakuh muh monuh kambay yah lee luh lay tambay Ah wakuh muh monuh kambay yah lee luh lay kah Ha suh wileego seehai yuh gbangah lilly Ha suh wileego dwelin duh kwen Ha suh wileego seehi uh kwendaiyah Everyone come together, let us work hard; the grave is not yet finished; let his heart be perfectly at peace. Everyone come together, let us work hard: the grave is not yet finished; let his heart be at peace once. Sudden death commands everyone's attention, like a firing gun. Sudden death commands everyone's attention oh elders, oh heads of family Sudden death commands everyone's attention, like a distant drum beat "This, often was a signal to the crew above the deck that another slave or two or ten or twenty had died," Covey explained. "Two of the crew members would rush below and descend the hatch to the slave cabin. The stench of dead bodies, old wounds, urine, body waste, and blood overwhelmed them. 'Oooohmm!' they grimaced and instinctively took a few steps backward; 'The job must be done,' remarked one of them as he moved forward to untangle a dead body. He lopped off an arm and a leg and tossed them overboard. Three more bodies, two women and a teenage boy who had died overnight, were separated in the same manner and tossed overboard the Tecora into the dark, ominous underworld of the Atlantic Ocean. Splasshh! "'Woeyoe! Woeyuoe! Woeyuooe!" The Atlantic rock ‘n’ roll Welcomes another slave aboard Rides its waves and gruesome tides Bides the abyss mystic slides Sharks and whales tear tiny flesh Wait for more to come afresh "That's awful," grimaced Ackah, holding his forehead helplessly. "And that's not all," suggested Covey. "I don't want to hear anything else about the events at sea," protested Ackah. "Not even about the whipping, the taunting, and the rationing of food and water?" Covey sighed as a smile crossed his face. His big cheekbones blossomed with sorrow and joy - sorrow that slavery had once deprived him of humanity and joy that he had survived to tell a compelling story. "No! I don't want to hear anything more about that!" Ackah vehemently protested. Covey roared with laughter at Ackah's protest. Tears glistened in his eyes. He pressed on. "You paid me a hundred pounds to tell you a story," he laughed uncontrollably, wiping his face with his handkerchief. "You told me to brutalize you with the truth." He fell from his chair as he laughed." Now you must listen to the truth. I am ready to brutalize you with nothing but the truth." He sat back up in his chair and after getting himself together, he continued. "How about the British Buzzard that patrolled the high seas to deter and capture other slavers such as the Si and the Henrietta?" Amistad Wahala - LAMBERT Chapter 5 The Chase It was on a bright, sunny afternoon in the month of January, 1839. A 300-ton ship swayed back and forth like a drunkard as it made its way to the Gallinas estuary. A white man in white khaki shorts and a white jacket emerged from around a corner on the deck, followed by two other men. They spoke to each other in a strange, incomprehensible language as they anchored the Tecora into the mouth of the Gallinas. The ocean's tide rushed in and crashed against the hull of the schooner with fury. The collision was often very loud, distinct, deliberate. This was not just ordinary water showing its rage over the presence of the Tecora at the Gallinas. The bones of dead men, women and children emerged from the ocean's underworld to protest the presence of the Tecora in the Gallinas knowing it was there on a mission to take their survivors away. Crisssh! Kloanngg! Krraakataa! Bones, knuckles, hands, feet, ribs all came with one powerful force, riding on the ocean's raging waves to damage the Tecora before it snatched another child, another mummy, another daddy, half of whom would die before getting to the west. But the Tecora was apathetic to the revolting dead bones. It simply rocked back and forth and catapulted them several feet back to the ocean's depth. It did not have any need to use its 180-degree rotating big gun at the back of the foremast. That was reserved for tougher opponents, such as the British Buzzard, which yearned to stop her from crossing the wide open ocean bearing men, women, and children packed below her deck like sardines in a can. And if it were ever overpowered by the British Buzzard, its captain, Joshua McClapp, could use its most formidable arsenals: its easy maneuverability and speed. And if those were to fail, McClapp could resort to opening a trapdoor below the deck, letting a heavy iron b
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About the Book
The story is a historical fiction about mutinous Sierra Leonean slaves aboard the schooner, Amistad. The facts about the story remain unchanged. For instance, the fact that the captives were sold into slavery by the notorious Portuguese slave dealer, Don Pedro Blanco is a historical fact. What is different are the fictionalized ideas, stories, narratives, and viewpoints that bring the story alive and make it enjoyable to the reader. On January 27, 1839, 670 captives were transported from the Gallinas estuary of Sierra Leone to Santiago de Cuba, where two Spaniards, Jose Ruiz and Pedro Montez purchased fifty-three of them. Montez and Ruiz were transporting their human cargo to Guanaja, a port of entry of Puerto Principe in Cuba, when the slaves revolted and killed Ramon Ferrer, the Captain of the schooner, Celestinio, the cook, and two other crewmembers. The leader of the revolt, Sengbe Pieh, known as Joseph Cinque in America, spared the lives of Antonio, the captain's slave, and Ruiz and Montez, the former slave owners. Cinque then ordered Ruiz and Montez to steer the schooner back to Sierra Leone. They agreed to do so; however, they employed a deceptive tactic by steering the derelict brig in a general northerly direction. After nearly two months at sea and running short of food and water, Cinque ordered Ruiz to anchor the brig at the nearest port. Ruiz anchored the schooner at Montauk Point near Long Island, New York. Lieutenants Richard Meade and Thomas R. Gedney, the commander of the U.S.S. WASHINGTON, captured the brig. What followed were series of law suits by Ruiz, Montez, Lieutenant Gedney, Lieutenant Meade, and the United States Government, all against the mutinous slaves for piracy, murder, and property rights. American abolitionists saw the crisis as a momentous occasion to show the evils of slavery, and to further their cause of putting it to an end. They retained three lawyers of outstanding abilities: Baldwin, Sedgwick, and Staples to argue the case for the captives. What followed was a dramatic display of legal and political schemes involving Martin Van Buren, the eighth President of the United States, and his Secretary of State, John Forsyth. When the decision of Judge Judson in the District Court of Connecticut was handed down on January 8, 1840, it was overwhelmingly in favor of the captives. Judson declared that the captives "were born free and ever since have been and still of right are free and not slaves." Judson's decision stunned the White House. Hollabird, the United States District Attorney, immediately appealed the decision to the Supreme Court. The Abolitionists turned to former President of the United States, member of Congress, ex-minister to Russia, legal expert and scholar, John Quincy Adams to lead the defense in arguing the case for the captives in the Supreme Court. Though 73 years old and growing frail, Adams proved to be up to the task. He was vibrant, insightful and fluid in presenting his arguments to the court. He won the case for the captives. They were set free and afforded a ship, The Gentleman, to go back to Sierra Leone where they lived for the rest of their lives. The Amistad wahala (crisis) was the only successful slave revolt in the United States. It brought three men together: Cinque, a slave; James Covey, a freedom fighter; and John Quincy Adams, the sixth President of the United States, to fight for a cause that was near and dear to their hearts – freedom. When the arguments were presented in the Supreme Court, Adams' freedom's lightning flashed, revealing the horrors of slavery and replacing it with a torch of freedom in the land that we now know as the land of the free. Stephen Spielberg did a movie on the story about two years ago. While his efforts are commendable, the story, however, was not fully told. I happen to believe that the story would not be fully told until the world hears it from a native of the captives' place of origin. A native can best express the woes, trials and tribulations of his countrymen; a native can accurately portray the power of their culture, language, thoughts and feelings. These are the things that make my story unique and interesting. As I relay the story, I became one of the captured slaves from the Gallinas Estuaries of Sierra Leone who was taken to a strange world that I knew nothing about. As I write the story, I felt the pain of the cane, the grief of bodies being tossed overboard, and the anguish of curfs peeling my flesh. I often shed tears in times of hardship and joy as we overcome the odds of captivity and enslavement. I have told the story from a traditional perspective with deep spiritual considerations. Being a native and a captive lend authenticity to my story. I am optimistic that people all over the globe will be curious to hear the story from a native's point of view. My work certainly carries the weight of authenticity.
About the Author
I was born and raised in Sierra Leone. After graduating from High school in 1975, I took a two-year business course conducted by the London Chamber of Commerce and the Royal Society of Arts at the Albert Academy. The Albert Academy is a secondary and post secondary institution that was established in 1904 as a result of the Amistad saga in America. The American Missionary Association saw it fit to build churches and schools to educate native Sierra Leoneans, especially those of Shebro and Mende descent. I proceeded to the United States in 1982 and attended the University of North Carolina at Charlotte where I graduated with a degree in Business Administration. I am intrigued by the arts, especially writing and music. I do not know which one weighs more in my mental faculties. However, I will readily admit that I took a two-year writing hiatus to start a small music label, Music Africana. This is not to say that I love music more than writing. After all I wrote my first book, DRUMBEATS FROM KABALA before ever thinking about getting into music production. I must admit that I enjoy both as hobbies. Being an author though presents more challenges in terms of researching, story development, writing, rewriting and rewriting. These were the tasks that I had to fulfill to write this book. I believe that I did my homework to make this project a success. I think that the reader will sense that almost immediately.