The year was 1820.
The place: a sugar plantation field in Birmingham, Alabama.
One day on the said plantation field in 1820, an African slave, Kwame, all of a sudden decided that he had had enough.
He was through with addressing the white owner of the plantation field as ‘Master’.


He was done with tip-toeing around the white master’s children so reverentially as if they were demi-gods.
‘Demi-gods’! Why, they were more like spoiled little brats with truly despicable behavior.
Kwame had had it up to here with all of it.
So, on one Saturday afternoon, Kwame, upped and made a bold dash for freedom.
As he tried to run away with his heart pounding heavily in his chest, he heard the tell-tale sounds of horses’ hooves kicking up dust as the white master and his henchmen vigorously pursued him on horse-back.
Despite hearing the yells from the white master and his men calling on him to stop, on Kwame ran throwing caution to the winds.


But in the end something did stop Kwame.
Two gun-shots to his back and two others to his neck eventually felled him fatally.
The place: a sugar plantation field in Birmingham, Alabama.
The year: 1820.
The year when the courageous attempt of an African slave, Kwame, to find freedom tragically cost him his life.

The End.