It was early afternoon in February 1659 as the sun lashes down on the elongated sandy beach where the Atlantic kisses the coast. At the mouth of the river there is a very large fortress made of stone surrounded by my village of rough huts decorated in their bizarre rows and columns. Further inland my village is swamp with mangrove where insects buzzed to their neighbours in the jungle beyond.
I was standing at a point of my village viewing the sea, when sighting a huge canoe coming towards me. As the object came closer, I heard men of a different nation speaking, they look different with white complexion, blue eyes, yellow hair as they plunge their flat paddles into the water. Quickly they drew nearer, dragging their boats on the sandy beach. They broke into the gates, capturing some of my friends just as I alerted people close by of the attack. I tried to run to let others know what was happening when gun shots sailed around. Suddenly I felt someone leaped on my back, pressing me down- it was one of the strange men, soon another of his kind chained my neck and arms. I was in pain and I struggled to free myself but it was in vain, I am captured.