‘Django, y’all know what this whip is made up of?’

‘Master..Please forgive her, she izza innocent child..Please, Ay beg ya’

‘Answer my question, DJANGO,’ He growls, ‘WHAT IS THIS WHIP MADE UP OF?

‘It’s made up of Buckskin from the horse,’ Django trembles.

‘And, what do we do with this whip?’

‘We train our horses, Master’

‘Bang on, Django,’ Master exclaims. ‘Y’all see, a whip doesn’t pay heed to no horse even when they are same. It goes on and on until either the master is tired or the horse bleeds’

‘Master, Ay beg y’all, please don’t kill her,’ He pleads.

‘Django…Oh my naive Django, Ay ain’t gonna kill her. Ay ain’t a whip, y’all are’


‘Do ya mighty think ay will spare yer daughter for sleeping with MY son?’

‘They are in love’


‘Yes Master, Ay Swear..’

‘Guards, Bring him in,’ Master commands.

‘Do y’all love her, Samuel?’

‘Yes, I do, father’


‘Father..Let me speak…’

Speak what?‘ He thunders, ‘How dare ya love that nigger bitch, let alone sleep with her, ya filthy rascal? HOW DARE YA?


‘Guards, bring another whip,’ He orders, ‘Ask everyone from the plantation to assemble here before the firmament turns red’


‘Let me make it easy for ya, Django,’ He says, ‘Y’all see, ah white fella sleeping with a nigga is ah crime, and ah nigga thinking that she’ll get away with it is ah bloody sin. No nigga should even think of sleeping with a white man. Everyone needs to witness this. Bring that pickaninny here…for every whip I lash out to my son, y’all lash out ten to her. No more words, or ay’ll double it.’


‘Make it twenty’

‘Please..Ay beg ya’

‘Now, it’s forty,’ He laughs.


‘She couldn’t take it. She’s dead..Ay killed my little Slyvia with my own hands’

‘Ay am sorry, Django’

‘It ain’t yer fault, Master Sam…It ain’t. She had this innocent aura around her. She thought love conquers all. She was wrong,’ He sobs.

‘Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere, Django’

‘Master Sam, pardon me?’

‘It was injustice from my father, Django. Grave injustice!’

‘Master Sam?’

‘Y’all were his trusted overseer. Ya took care of all y’all. And, He did that to ya. Ay am his only son. And, He did this to me. Look at the welt marks on my back. My white robe turned red,’ He cries.

‘Yes, He is an animal’

And, that animal needs to be hunted

Master Sam, what are ya saying?

‘Yes, y’all heard me, It’s a quid pro quo. Y’all kill him, Ay free all y’all. Take this machete. He’s alone and he’s wabbit. Go on’


‘Master Sam, I killed the beast’

‘Good job, Django, Darn good job’

‘Y’all’ve freed us!’

‘Oh, Ay wouldn’t say freed, more like under a new master,’ He laughs, ‘Guards, Chain this filthy old nigga, He has killed my father, y’all’s Master,’ The New Master orders.



Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, events, and incidents in this story are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.




Pickaninny: A racial slur referring to a dark-skinned child of African descent. In modern sensibility, the term can refer to an archaic depiction or caricature used in a derogatory and racist sense.

Overseer: A person who represented the planter in matters of daily management, often tasked with meting out punishments to keep up discipline and secure the profit of his owner.


Picture Credits: Diana Simumpande on Unsplash.


Note: Stories from Event organisers are considered as guest entries.


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