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They take you to town in a van; they count you. They stay right there with you when you go to the store. The town’s so small there’s nowhere to run. They’d just come get you, and they’d tell the other crew leader man that they done stole their people.

Once they took me to Atlanta, to get homeless men by offering crack. I was tired, didn’t wanna go work in the fields that day. I was telling those men how we had swimming pools and how nice the camp was. Pool tables, this that and the other.

Sometime around ’91 or ’92 we decided we needed to get away. We made a plan. At night, when we could, we went into the peach fields, started stowing our belongings. Got another camp leader to help us with that. The guards went and drank at night. When Huey said start running, you start running. The dogs started chasing; I fell in a ditch; Huey fell with me. The cars were chasing and the dogs were chasing, and we went to some other camp, and the guys at that second camp protected us. The way the brothers got caught was a guy came on the camp pretending to be a worker, but he was a cop or something.

The big farmer, they’re the ones making the money. Maybe a contractor, like, say, Goldteeth, off one truck of sweet potatoes, he made ten thousand dollars. He probably makes sixty or seventy thousand a season. He’s got his own camp now, eight miles outside Benson.

Tamada (Niger/Mali, 2005)
My name is Tamada. I don’t know my age, but I think I am about twenty years old. The situation of a slave is more than I can say. With all the violence, I lived every day in fear. I was born into slavery, like my mother and grandmother. I was separated from my mother when I was very little. My master took me with him from Niger to Mali and gave me to his eldest son.

I worked every day since I can first remember. I was always moving: pounding millet, washing, cooking. I worked from dawn till late after dark, collecting firewood and fetching water. I was also made to clear up my master’s feces. When I was small I looked after the camels, and if they wandered off I would be beaten. As I got older I began to look after my mistress’s children, and then I had to do all the household chores. I only saw my mother sometimes. When my master’s father came with his family, then they would join our encampment.

My master and mistress often insulted and spat at me. I was scared because if I didn’t do what they said they would hit me. There was so much violence, verbal insults, spitting. My master used to beat me often. I was so afraid of him.

I heard from other slaves that my mother and grandmother had escaped, and then things got bad for me, as my mistress wouldn’t let me out of her sight. But I started thinking about running away. It was hard. I cried a lot. I kept thinking of my mother. I didn’t know where to go and kept thinking of the danger. I have two small children and I was very scared. One evening a few months later I grabbed my children and when no one was looking I ran. I carried my children and walked and walked, very far, over thirty kilometers. I walked from encampment to encampment begging for food and shelter, and when I got near Inatés on the border with Niger some people told me about Timidria. I remember being so scared; I thought my master would come after me.

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