Liberte on Le Morne

Ludovic Duc stands at the halfway point for hikers going up to the summit of Le Morne mountain, at a relatively gentle altitude of about 600m. 

We chat on the way up. Him, jaunty and talking about his singing career (reggae-tinged worship music), me, asking questions in between my ragged panting, and staining my notebook with grape sized globules of sweat. 

He tells me that climbing Le Morne mountain, with its fresh-prince plateau, is something of a pilgrimage for the slave-descendents on Mauritius. 

Faced with appalling conditions that were the hallmarks of slavery, groups of slaves either chose death by armed resistence, or simply fled in the dead of night. They made the long trek to the south of the island, finding refuge at the top of the mountain. In time, it became an unofficial republic - archaeologists have uncovered evidence of utensils, animal bones, and rudimentary habitation at the very peak. 

It might not seem like much today. A path has been cut from the sheer mountain side for us to walk up, but back in the day, climbing this would have required, well, a slave's physique. 

As you stand there looking down on most of Mauritius, as the runaway slaves once did, you realise how we take our personal freedom for granted.

But this symbol of Liberte has a dark twist.

Upon the abolishment of slavery on 1st February 1835, a contingent of British soldiers climbed Le Morne to bear the good news. A simple, 'you're free now,' perhaps. 

But spotting the soldiers from a distance, the slaves, free citizens of their own Republic of La Morne, feared the worst. They jumped off the cliff - choosing liberty over life.