Wind blowing. Gently at first. Branches moving with the same rhythm. For a moment we all hold on to our sweaters,tightly. Protecting ourselves from the cold. The fire burns fiercely. In harmony we all move closer to the fire. The wind passes on. We all relax. In synchrony,hands are let out the sweaters and held above the fire. Warming us up. Tea is passed around. Everyone gets a cup of tea. A cup because it would be rude to take more than a cup. Cups raised. A sip then back to being held between both arms. None talked. The rythm flowed in. Sip of tea,then cup back to arms. Till the cups were empty and needed refilling. This time as if she already knew what had to happen,she woke up and served us tea. Filling our cups to the brim. Tea is done. It would be a taboo to take a third cup. Judgement time is here.
Tick,tock. Tick,tock.
Hands are thrown back to the sweatets. Everyone adopts a slightly bent posture. Leaning onto the man that cleared his throat. Who was it again? Yeah,that elderly man from the hills. He walks with a walking stick. Slightly bent posture as if scared of the gods. The obvious wrinkles on his forehead are a proof that he has seen the salt and sugar of this world. Those eyes just beneath the wrinkles. Deep sunken. Does he eat? Or he is like the many amongst us that eat only when there is a celebration in our village? A silent village. The white long beard dangling beneath his chin looked unkempt. That was just the beard,the hair on his head? As if with knowlegde that he would look like satan himself,he kept on a hat,a cowboy hat above his head. That cowboy hat with two strings that form a know just beside his adams apple. Only proof that he is a youth at mind.
He wanted to stand up but he couldnt. Held on to his walking stick firmly. Then gave up silently. A man aint supposed to show acceptance of defeat. One hand on the walking stick. Ythe other touching his beard. He cleared his throat one more time,bent his head towards the gathering. With a deep voice he began. ‘Today,we are all gathered here because of her.’ The fingers moved from the beard to me. Does he know three more fingers are pointing back at him? Does any one think of that?
Faces turned to me. I felt like hiding. Judgemental stares. On young slender village girl. If they had a chance they would have sent me to hell just with their stares. Is hell real? I hear about it from that book. What book was it again? Aah,the Bible. The book that one; they said; could read and be washed of all sins. What of mine? Could i be forgiven by the one above? It would take alot of cows and goats plus feeding the empty stomachs of the elders that never ate until such meetings. Culture bounds.
He looked at me again with sympathy. ‘What she has done is an abomination! One that needs to be cleansed begore our gods curse our lands and children.’ Now we talking of curses? To our lands and children? Is the child am carrying a curse? A beatifyl creature a curse?
Help me understand if you didnt know when you pushed me down that maize farm. Tore away my clothes and pushed that snake between your legs into my thighs. How was I supposed to know that it would make my stomach as large as my grandmas pot? It was late at night I remember. I was sent to buy cooking oil. Oil for the fish dad had been given by the chief for ploughing his land. Rotten fish.
I am the first born. The first of our family’s dynasty. The first daughter that her breasts stood too early,hips protruded too early. How was I supposed to stop them from showing? Now I know that must have been the reason why mother mixes our food with petroleum nowadays. Growing too fast woukd attract attention for our poor family. Dad saw it as a blessing. He was already counting the number of cows I would bring in. Rich suitors had already approached him. Here no one cared that I loved the boy next door. The poor one. Dad knew of it,he saw the way he smiled at me and the way I drew maps at his presence.
The shop was closed. The nearest one. I had to keep walking to the market shop. I was scared. There men look at me with the eyes of hunger. I walked slowly. I held onto my skirt. The longest and the only one I have. It was my mothers. It had been passed on to generations. A single tear and I would have interrupted the lineage. After getting the cooking oil,i felt like running away. I wanted to,but I couldnt. Mama says you dont run when people are looking.
That man. The elder. The eldest among the elderly. He came to me. Greeted me. ‘Girl,I will protect you. Let me take you home. For one momen,I got in a dilemma. Mama says dont trust anybody. But he is an elder,what could he possibly do? We walked side by side. He seemingly had so much strength for his age. Then we got to that maize field,he told me to lie down and be a good girl. Hold up my skirt. He wanted to see what the gods had blessed me with. Now he is here,five months down the line accussing the boy next door of getting me fat. For him to only maintain his reputation. I fear for him,the boy next door. But wont it be good if we are forced to marry each other?
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