A day so gruesome the numbers representing it are burned into my head. It was a normal day on the fields, the usual back-breaking job me and my mother had to do. Under the hot Carolina sun, we had to bend down for almost 16 hours a day. Planting or harvesting rice. My mom, Nana Asma'u was an African, she was kidnapped from her village in Liberia. She told me stories of her village, she was kidnapped at around my age while on a trip to the Limba tribe...