Rococoa

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by Balogun Ojetade (ed)


  Ijeoma watched as the old white man threw Aneesa to the ground. Ijeoma watched without the power to do anything. The old white man took out a knife, while pinning Aneesa to the ground with his knee.

  He looked at Ijeoma and laughed. She tried to move, but for some strange reason she could not.

  The old white man said “What are you going to do?”

  Ijeoma felt a cold strike of lightning shoot through her body.

  The old white man raised the knife high in the air and plunged it into the chest of her sister…

  Ijeoma spit out a mouth full of rum.

  Kwame threw his arm around her. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” Ijeoma said. “I think the rum was a little strong for me.”

  After everyone had eaten, Ijeoma, Kwame and William followed Black Caesar and Adams as they showed them details of the ships.

  They walked the planks over to Black Caesar’s ship – a Schooner with two large masts. It was a massive ship. One main deck had three lower desks. There was another level with nothing but cannons. Ijeoma counted six on each side. Black Caesar had cannons on another level where the crew slept. There were even four cannons on the quarterdeck.

  Black Caesar’s ship was one big cannon! He had even cut out cannon ports on the deck below his cabin, so he could fire at ships behind him.

  By the time they finished learning the operations of the ship, it was dark. Black Caesar pulled Ijeoma aside while Adams showed Kwame how to lower the anchor. William joined the crew for a meal of salted meat and more dried bread. William was eager to hear the stories of the various crew members.

  Black Caesar walked with the young woman on the deck of his ship. He leaned on the railing, looking out into the night sky. He pulled out a back-staff and held it out, showing her. “This is what is used to guide ships. But a pirate must learn to read the stars. Being able to read the stars allows you to navigate your ship at night. The brighter and whiter a star is, the better it is for a night reader.”

  “Are there Black stars?” Ijeoma said.

  “Yes there are,” Black Caesar replied. “There are the nights when pirates wreak the most havoc on ships that cross the pirates’ path. We hang black sails on these nights so we can surprise these ships. The element of surprise and fear are a pirates’ greatest asset.”

  Ijeoma stared off into the night sky and absorbed the immense darkness. She imagined the fear of the crews of the attacked ships. Goose bumps rose on her arms. “How does one become a pirate?”

  “That is the question I have been waiting for you to ask,” Black Caesar said. “A pirate is not something you can want to be. A pirate is something you are made to be. I, along with my family, was forced to work in the sugarcane fields of Ayiti. My father worked during the day for the Spanish plantation owners and at night, he worked for the rebellion. One night he said goodbye to us, claiming he was going to build a great citadel in the hills. He said when he returned, he would bring freedom with him. Months later, the revolution started and our plantation was destroyed. The Spanish Army fought our great leader, Toussaint L’Ouverture and even greater leader, Jean-Jacques Dessalines, in the very fields my family worked. Everyone in my family fought alongside these great leaders in war.”

  “Separated from my family, my brother and I fled to the sea,” Black Caesar went on. “We drifted on a raft until we landed on the shore south of the Spanish colony of Saint Augustine in the land of the Mayaimi Indians. We were taken in and fed by the Mayaimi. My brother was sick and died shortly after. It was there in Florida where I met a man trading stolen goods with the Mayaimi. I don’t remember his name but I do remember he was a pirate. I learned from this pirate’s crew members that Toussaint drove Napoleon’s army back to San Domingo. Many of his crew were younger than me. Boys and some girls just like me but fighters nonetheless. They told me that the war was spreading throughout the Caribbean. They said they were fighters in the war. I decided then that I would become a pirate. I joined with these men and we took two ships in our first year. Now, I command a navy of four ships. We have found several ships like yours, adrift after the enslaved have revolted, but none have had as many survivors as you.”

  Black Caesar put his arm around Ijeoma and said: “Think hard about your future. What you have experienced since your capture has changed you and what you thought your life would be.”

  Five

  The ships arrived on the sandy beach of Black Island. The smell of rich land and fresh vegetation filled the air. The clear blue water and the swaying of the palm trees made Ijeoma’s desire to return home even stronger.

  There were buildings made of stone just beyond the shoreline. She stood looking over the side of her ship, taking in the view of this island Black Caesar called home.

  There were three other ships in addition to Black Caesar’s and Ijeoma’s lining the bay. Although it was bright and sunny, there was dark, ominous energy about the place. A hint of sulfur lingered in the air. There were children playing on the beach; but even they looked sad. Their smiles were hard ― unlike the children in Ijeoma’s village. They wrestled and fought, snatching toys from each other. As a child, Ijeoma would have never fought with another child from her village.

  The houses all looked like fortresses. They were run down, but painted in bright colors, faded and splotched with dirt.

  The women looked tired and old. They yelled loudly at the children and used foul language. Their clothes were ragged and falling off their bodies.

  Ijeoma thought that Black Caesar’s men looked frightening, but these women might have surpassed them.

  “I see you’re already up,” Adams said as he walked up behind Ijeoma. “I bet it feels good to be on land.”

  He handed her a coconut with the top sliced off and a mango. “I brought you some coconut water and some fruit. It will make you feel better. You can drink it while I show you the place. Black Caesar is already setting up a big feast of fresh fruits for you and your crew. It’s the best thing to eat after a long trip at sea.”

  “Let me tell Kwame. I’m sure he would like to come as well,” she said.

  As she turned toward the door of the captain’s cabin, Adams frowned.

  “Alright,” he said. “But don’t you think it is best that he continues to sleep? Maybe he is tired. I could come back for him.”

  Ijeoma stopped before she reached the door.

  “Let me show you this place that the Good Lord has blessed us with,” Adams said. “And I can show you a hot spring where you can wash off the ocean salt.”

  “Okay,” Ijeoma said. She followed him off the ship and into town.

  ####

  “Whata-gwan, Adams! Welcome back, my brother!” A voice called from inside a bar, as Adams and Ijeoma approached it.

  “Oh no,” Adams sighed. He turned and greeted a dark-skinned man wearing a multicolored outfit – green shirt; red pants; yellow scarf. “Good day Brother Coconut, Adams said. “It’s good to be back. How are you?”

  “Everything is irie, man,” Brother Coconut replied. “Much better than if I were in Kingston. I see you and Black Caesar found a beautiful treasure! And what is the name of this sight, warming my eyes?” Coconut asked.

  Ijeoma smiled. “My name is Ijeoma. Black Caesar and Adams rescued us at sea. We would have been a dead treasure, if they would not have found us when they did.”

  “Coconut is the best cook on the Island,” Adams said. “He escaped from Jamaica a few years ago and he has been blessing us with full stomachs ever since.”

  “Well Black Caesar has me cooking for a army today,” Coconut said. “I’ve got your favorite curry chicken and the biggest red snapper you’ve ever seen. Come see. I’ll set you up with you some conch soup, too.”

  “Get that ready and we’ll be back,” Adams said. “I want to finish showing her the island.”

  “Yeah man, do your ting!”

  Adams walked Ijeoma down every dirt road in the village. She saw houses, more women with hard look
s on their faces, a few older people and more rough children.

  “So why do you all call him Coconut?” Ijeoma asked. “Because he is hard on the outside and soft on the inside?”

  “No, because he is a fierce fighter,” Adams said with a smile. “He earned his name because he is dark like chocolate and fights like a nut.”

  “Really? He doesn’t look like a fighter.”

  “I am joking,” Adams said. “I don’t know; I never asked. Everyone here has taken nicknames. My mother named me after my grandfather, that’s why I haven’t changed mine.”

  They reached a secluded lake, surrounded by large, smooth rocks. A waterfall poured into the lake on the other side.

  “Here you are my African sister,” Adams said, “you can bathe here. I will return in an hour.”

  ####

  Kwame and William sat across from each other in Coconut’s bar, talking to Black Caesar. Both had plates of food in front of them. The crew members of Ijeoma’s ship and the other ships filled the rest of the bar. Some white pirates were there as well.

  Ijeoma and Adams entered the bar. Coconut rolled out a large barrel.

  Black Caesar stood and raised his glass. “As the Buccaneers say: ahoy, matey, here be your rum! Now, grab a mug and fill ‘em up!”

  Once everyone in the bar had drink in hand, Black Caesar continued. “All you scallywags, raise up your drinks! I want to say a toast to our new friends. It was just a couple days ago when we found you drifting. We thought you to be lost booty, from a ship gone waste from scurvy. But when we walked onto the ship there you were, blimey!”

  Black Caesar eyed his audience. “See, I’ve learned one thing on the seas and in this war – to expect the unexpected. That’s what my mother told me. And she be one of the strongest black women who fought in the war of Ayiti. What she told me was to also enjoy your good times, for they are few and far between. So drink up, Ijeoma and all you revolutionaries, for this be a good time. Eat all the oxtail and jerk’d chicken you can. I will have Coconut make some cod fish for your journey back. Maybe I’ll get him to throw some ackee in with that cod for you.”

  It was late night when Caesar walked Ijeoma back to her ship. He handed her a cup of coconut water. They walked slowly and Ijeoma took in the night sky.

  “The stars are the same as in my village,” she said. “They just seem to be twisted around.”

  “You have all the makings of a good navigator,” Caesar replied. “A good Pirate captain can see the sky, as a hawk sees the earth. To the Royal Fleet’s navy men, the sky is just darkness. It is of no use to them. It’s as if the stars were black. But the moon and the stars are what guide us. The blackness others fear is what we must learn to use. The sky never changes, only your place underneath. If you can learn to read the blackness, you will have an advantage over those who only know how to chart their course by the sun.”

  “My father read the sky to know when to plant,” Ijeoma said, “and when to fish, but never for travel. This is new to me. Will you teach me?”

  “Adams has offered to lead you back whence you came,” Black Caesar replied. “You can learn from him. He can read both the black sky and the navy sun charts like the ones found on your ship. He will be a great loss for us. But I send him in hopes he will influence you to return and wage war with us here in the Caribbean.”

  Ijeoma turned her gaze toward the captain. “I thank you for your kindness, but do not underestimate the war in my land and my usefulness there. If you like, you can follow us and take our ship back with you.”

  “Your wisdom and foresight continues to amaze me,” Black Caesar said. “However, I must decline. Your ship is yours and you must decide its destiny. And as for Africa, I will not journey there until I have won this war. Africa, to me, is where we all came from. And to go there may only boil my rage over to where I cannot control it. I allow myself only short trips here to Black Island. I fear if I stay away from the water-war, I will lose my edge. These robbers have learned to fear my black sail. And I never want them to stop.”

  Six

  The African coast was unusually calm, almost welcoming, as Adams steadied the ship for the traders’ port. He wore a shirt he had taken from another Dutch ship they robbed. The shirt made him look like a person suited for trade across the Atlantic.

  The rear gate of the traders’ dungeon opened wide. William stood at the port edge of the ship. He was dressed in the high fashions found in the captain’s cabin.

  Ijeoma and Kwame stood out of sight inside the ship.

  A white man met William as he stepped off the ship.

  “Captain!” He exclaimed. “We had not expected your return so early. We have only a few slaves for you at this time.”

  “Is that so? Let me speak to who’s in charge!” William scoffed. “Or else I’ll have to go out to the jungle and find my own slaves.”

  The man led William into the dungeon. He ordered a mulatto slave to fetch him and the captain a cup of water. “I will trust sitting here is okay? Captain ah…”

  “William!” William barked. “And this is not acceptable! I will have my laborers teach your half-breeds how to serve a drink.”

  “Very well, then,” the man said. “Please, wait here. I will wake the Governor and inform him of your arrival.”

  ####

  Kwame stood facing the ship, while Ijeoma’s back faced the interior of the fort. She concealed her musket, as she looked out the main gate toward her village.

  She had hoped to spot a few children playing or even a woman washing clothes along the beach but so far there was nothing. She smiled as she listened to William continue his slave trader impersonation.

  “I’m sorry you had to wait,” the governor stammered. “If I had known…”

  “Spare me your excuses!”William snapped. “Your aide has informed me that you have no slaves for me!”

  “I have only a few, who I’ve kept for my personal use.” He winked at William. “You understand.”

  “Let me see them,” William said, looking down his nose at the governor. “Hopefully, I will find one or two of them of interest to me.”

  “I assure you that with all of the goods we have stored here, your trip will not be a loss.”

  “Just show me the women.”

  The pudgy governor motioned to the men around him. Young girls in torn clothes were pulled out of each of the rooms of the dungeon’s upper area. The girls moaned and sighed as they were showcased to William.

  Ijeoma peeked through the corner of her eye as she looked for Aneesa. Her anxiety grew as each girl was brought forth and it was not her sister.

  “She is not here!” Ijeoma whispered.

  She charged toward the governor, pointing her musket at his chest. “Remember me?” She flipped the long gun around and struck, catching the chubby man flush on the chin.

  Kwame stepped aside and trained his gun on the rest of the men.

  More men from Ijeoma’s ship rushed through the port door. Adams came in and picked up the governor. He held him in front of William.

  William spit in the governor’s face. “You disgust me! Death is too good for you! But it is a gift I gladly bestow upon you today!”

  Ijeoma pulled William back. She pulled a knife from her side and raised it to the governor’s face. “Where are the rest of the girls? You took my sister!”

  “I will not cooperate with you, savage!” the man snarled, spitting blood onto the floor.

  “I expected you would say that!” Ijeoma said. “Let’s lock this uncooperative barbarian up!”

  Ijeoma grabbed the man by the back of the neck and dragged him toward the cells. She shoved him into the same dark cell she was once held in. The rest of the white men and mulatto slaves were thrown in there as well.

  Ijeoma and Kwame searched the rest of the dungeon.

  It was in the governor’s room that Ijeoma found Aneesa and two other girls. They were weak and thin, lying on blankets in a corner of the room.

  �
�Kwame!” Ijeoma yelled. “She’s here!”

  ####

  Adams, Kwame and Ijeoma crossed the road leading to the center of her village, each one dragging a young woman on a two-wheeled gurney normally used to transport the dead from the dungeons.

  Ijeoma held Aneesa under her armpit and helped her walk the road.

  They saw no men when they entered the village; only children and women.

  Ijeoma helped Aneesa sit down on the side of the road.

  The women were busy crushing meal in large mortars, sweeping and sowing fishing nets. When they saw Ijeoma they all dropped what they were doing to greet her and her crew.

  Ijeoma’s mother ran over and embraced her.

  “Oh momma I am so glad to be back home!”

  “I thought you and your sister drowned fishing!” Ijeoma’s mother cried, falling to her knees before Aneesa. She wrapped her arms around Aneesa and sobbed. Aneesa cried with her.

  They carried the young women to a house where women of the village brought water and herbs to nurse them back to health. They removed the young women’s clothes and cleaned them, combed their hair and gave them new garments to wear. The men in Ijeoma’s crew bathed and then joined the villagers.

  Ijeoma’s mother ushered Ijeoma out to the village center to have an audience with Asantewaa, leader of the village and the other elders of the village council.

  ####

  Aneesa faced Asantewaa. Behind the Great Asantehene sat her council.

  “Nana Yaa Asantewaa, we would like to inform you of the devils who have been trading within the dungeon on the shore,” Ijeoma said.

  “This man here,” she pointed towards Adams. “He is from across the water, from a place called Virginia. He is not from there although he was born there. His parents were from here.”

  “They were kidnapped and not traded, as we have been made to believe.” Ijeoma looked around and saw she had everyone’s attention. “My sister and I were fishing with Kwame and his brother when we were kidnapped, and Kwame’s brother, Kojo, was killed.”

  “We were taken to their dungeon,” Ijeoma continued. “Kwame and I were separated from Aneesa. We were chained and dragged to a ship, where we met other black people from different tribes. On the ship our white Slavers tortured us. Afraid they would kill us, we fought back and won. Captain Black Caesar, Adams’ captain, helped get us back here.”

 

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