I sat on a rock, my feet submerged in the clear sea water. The crashing of the waves broke the silence of the afternoon. My eyes were fixed on a large ship sailing in the distance. The ship belonged to the VOC, a symbol of cruel colonialism.

Suddenly, a young Dutchman sat next to me. He was one of the VOC members who had just arrived in our city. He was handsome, but his eyes were cold and piercing.

"What do you see?" he asked in a flat voice.

I turned to him and said in a low voice "I saw a ship carrying oppression and suffering."

The young man smiled faintly. "You're too naive" he said. "The world is full of strengths and weaknesses. The weak are destined to submit to the strong."

I fell silent, contemplating his words. I knew he was right, but I couldn't accept it. I want to fight, but I don't know how.