Welcome to Valencia

When the storm calmed, the slaves were herded back into the ship's belly, their wet feet dragging against slick wooden planks.

They returned to the suffocating underdeck, the same darkness and stench of sickness and fear.

None of them protested or tried to be headstrong when it was time to chain them up in their positions. They had turned so docile due to weakness.

Moremi collapsed where she had last lain, too drained to think and too numb to resist the weight of despair she was feeling at the moment.

Her eyes fell shut before her body even settled into the damp floor and before she knew it, she fell asleep.

_______

She didn't know how long she had slept again. But this time, it wasn't the storm that woke her.

It was silence.

A heavy kind of silence that felt almost unnatural, followed by unfamiliar voices echoing from above.

Then abruptly, the loud creak of wood shifting and groaning beneath weight made her snap her eyes open almost immediately, every bit of consciousness slipping back to her.

The ship had stopped moving.

Moremi attempted to lift her head to see what was going on when the door swiftly burst open, jerking everyone awake.

"Get up! Out, out!"

The barks of the sailors rang out again, but something was different in their tone.

It carried urgency, but not fear. Moremi stirred, raising her head weakly. Her neck ached. Her body stung. But something new sparked in her chest — curiosity.

They had arrived.

Her chains clinked as they shuffled her up the steep stairwell, sunlight stabbing her eyes as she emerged once more onto the deck.

What she saw next took her breath away.

They were no longer surrounded by endless water. The ship had docked and in the distance, she saw land. Strange, foreign land.

She blinked rapidly as her vision adjusted, taking in the view of the environment which looked nothing like Mandinga. The trees were taller not wilder like those back home.

They appeared groomed, standing in lines like soldiers and the buildings were made of stone and wood, with sharp edges and sloped rooftops. Even the air smelled different — dry and smoky, like burning spices and strange earth.

Moremi could feel her chest rise with both wonder and unease.

"Move!" A white man suddenly stepped forward and pulled Moremi's chains, prodding her ahead.

She didn't react at all. Instead, she forced her feet down the ship.

Looking to her sides, she could see two other ships that docked, more black people coming down the built-in stairs.

Immediately her feet touched the sand, Moremi flinched. She had nearly forgotten she was barefoot. The sun burned her legs, but it wasn't too hot to bear.

"Form a line!" A man shouted at them and they all obeyed, lining up in a queue. The men checked their chains before clipping them together until he towed it to a wagon, and a man climbed into it, pulling the reins of the horse for it to move at once, causing them to move with it.

Moremi was met with more white men on the dock. Their numbers were staggering.

Men in clean coats, women with pale parasols and children with golden hair. All pale-faced, sharp-eyed and staring as the slaves were led off the ship like cattle.

"There are plenty of them," she whispered to herself in disbelief. Her stomach turned, and her skin burned under their gaze as the children and women from afar peered at them, some with disgust, while others with an unreadable expression.

Moremi stared at them likewise, her face contorted with confusion and discomfort.

It was her first time seeing women and children of pale skin, and she couldn't help but gawk at them strangely.

She shifted uncomfortably in her skin as she had never felt so out of place and exposed before.

She was used to being around her type, and now that she was greeted with these oddities, it made her feel inferior, almost as if they were not all equally human.

"Welcome aboard, George." Her attention was drawn to a conversation nearby as crates were being offloaded.

"Thank you, Lord Louis." George bowed in reply.

"You've gathered plenty of slaves, I see." The man said with a small smile, his chest puffed up with pride as he gazed at the pile of men and women, including children, who were lined up away from the ship.

"Yes, my lord." George nodded. "More men to work on your plantations and more women to warm your bed." He laughed in merriment, raising both his hands up in a gesture.

Moremi was rooted in their conversation, straining her ears to hear them properly, so that she didn't realise when she broke the line that was formed.

"Get in line!" A guard suddenly barked at her as he flung his whip near her but luckily, she dodged it and didn't need anyone to remind her to step back on track immediately.

Her eyes again searched for the two quickly, and she found them, but unlike earlier, she could barely hear their voices this time around, only read their lips.

She squinted her eyes as they led them further into the town, greeted by more white people.

She couldn't stop herself from glancing at the land as well as the wide plantations beyond the port, stretching far into the distance.

Rows upon rows of green crops under the heat of a sun that didn't feel like hers.

There were more black people.

Some were chained, some standing in rows, and working on a farm while others were being herded into wagons.

Moremi locked eyes with them as if realisation hit her. This was where they brought them.

As if sensing their gaze, some of the black people turned to them, staring with pale, dead eyes as Moremi and her queue were taken along a narrow path, past a stretch of trees and fields, toward a small, fenced compound with mud huts.

One of the building stood out, bigger than the rest, with wooden doors and iron locks.

They were led inside it.

The door creaked open to reveal a dark room — dimly lit by slivers of sunlight slipping through the cracks in the walls. It smelled of dampness and old porridge.

Moremi stepped inside, swallowing hard when her chains were taking off. The room reminded her too much of the ship.

Just a little brighter and wider.

There were many other people inside as her batch entered, filling the space up.

Some of them collapsed on the wall as they went in, tiredness marred on their faces as they took a deep breath.

Not long after, someone came in — a black woman with stern eyes and a stained apron. She placed a big bowl on the floor, filled with what looked like grey, sloppy porridge.

"Eat," she said simply, before walking away.

Before Moremi could approach it, she noticed the others run to the bowl, scooping their own portion into a thin plate and sitting near the corner, eating with their bare hands.

The food smelled bland, and the colour was enough to kill her appetite, but her body needed something.

She didn't waste time thinking as more people approached the bowl, collecting their portions, and in less than a second, the food had reduced.

Moremi rushed to the bowl, picking up one of the thin plates to serve hers before the food finished.

When she had packed enough to fill the plate, she moved back to allow others, perching beside a young woman whose legs were folded tightly to her chest while she also ate.

Moremi didn't look at her as she began to eat with her dirty hands, draining the food like a beggar with no care in the world. In seconds, she had cleaned the plate but she wasn't satisfied.

She looked into the big bowl and as expected, the food was finished. A sigh escaped her lips.

Dropping the plate to a corner, she relaxed her head on the wall, breathing heavily like someone who had run a marathon.

It was only after she got herself that she glanced down at the lady beside her — and then she paused, her eyes catching sight of something on the girl's right leg.

She had seen that mark before.

Three small, diagonal lines along the side of her calf. Faint, but clear.

"Azuran." She said as she leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

The girl who had earlier almost drifted to sleep, turned to her with dull brown eyes filled with fatigue.

"You are Azuran." She said again to see the girl give a slow, hesitant nod before furrowing her brows at her.

"Aren't we all?" She asked Moremi.