Defiled... An African Themed Short Story
"Woman, you and your daughter will do as I say!"
"We will do no such thing! You will not sell off my daughter like a bag of corn!"
"Oh, now she is your daughter! Where were you when the headmaster was demanding his fees?! Eh...?!"
I hid underneath Mama's wrapper and watched the shouting match between she and papa go on for almost two hours. I was only fourteen years old, but I knew enough to understand that I was the reason for their fight. I also understood why...
...
It was only about two months ago that the items had started arriving. First, they had brought the yams. Yams that had made even papa gape with admiration. They were as big as three large heads put together.
"A farmer indeed!" That was all papa had uttered for twenty minutes after seeing the first tuber (which was a rarity given papa had the peculiar gift of tongue - he could talk for hours on end without getting exhausted).
Then the beans had arrived, followed by rice. By the time the wrappers began to arrive, even I myself could tell. And I began to wonder whose marriage was being arranged.
Then he came. That man whose desire for a wife changed the course of my entire family. He came with his big car, the one whose front looked as ugly as the big nose of our village school headmaster.
I didn't like Chief (for that was what everyone called him) as soon as I saw him. With big rounded head, and a protruding stomach, Chief looked like the funny picture of Humpty Dumpty that my little brother used to draw. And sometimes when he talked, the way his big round head bubbled made me think it would fall off imminently.
Papa was intent on marrying me off to Chief. It was clear from the way he smiled and talked whenever Chief came around, or sent a message. For a couple of weeks Mama had kept quiet in public while she acted the dutiful wife. She had tried to convince papa in private that I was not yet ready for marriage. I had heard their whispers in the night while I pretended to sleep.
"Papa Ukamaka, but your daughter is only fourteen."
"Woman, if I had enough money like Chief, you would have been in my house long before you turned fourteen. Look at Uka, she even looks more grown up than you were when I married you."
"But papa Uka..."
I had forced my eyes close all those nights while I prayed for sleep. I didn't know all what marriage entailed, or the many different aspects of it that papa and mama argued about. But I was certain of one thing, I didn't want to go stay with Chief.
So when the day had come, I had told papa as much. And papa had finally erupted...
"Woman, you and your daughter will do as I say!"
"We will do no such thing! You will not sell off my daughter like a bag of corn!"
"Oh, now she is your daughter! Where were you when the headmaster was demanding his fees?! Eh...? When she needed school books? Where were you woman?!"
I held Mama's wrapper tighter, scared of what papa might do. But he only shouted, and soon after he walked out on us as mama continued to protect me.
Perhaps I should have never have said no to Papa's wishes, or maybe mama should have protected me more.
Because that night papa came into my hut. And right behind him was Chief...
...
"He's dead..." The words fell out of the doctor's mouth like cold hard drops of rain on a work morning.
Its effect both painful and cold, it was felt throughout the small room where we all gathered. I looked at mother. She sat across from me, her hands folded in fists, one atop the other. Both, a resting place for her set jaw.
"We tried our best, but..." The doctor's sympathetic speech faded into the background as I continued to focus on mother. I admired her steeliness, her calm..
She didn't even move, as if she had been stung by a numbing insect. Her disheveled hair and unkept look made her worthy of sympathy. And if I didn't know I would also have pitied her. Maybe I truly even did.
But I knew, I saw... I know it was mother who had poisoned father...
And somehow, I envied her...
THE END...?
The last couple weeks have been quite busy for me, having to make plans towards a change in location, and selling off stuffs not needed for the movement and whatnots. Somewhere in between all of that I decided to start writing this story as it came to mind.
It has taken me a couple of days to finish (if this is actually the end), and I hope someone enjoyed reading...
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oh my word! how you tie the start into the middle of the story, and lead into your foxtales <3 this is truly hair raising.
As always, you hit me so hard in the gut with your amazing story telling, i don't notice the skillful pacing, the carefully chosen words, the way how she sees the chief emphasis how she isn't ready for this.
And the context this gives your fox tales at the end, the background of how powerless the mother had been rendered by her gender and circumstance, the way the father references his own marriage, and her reaction to that. You hide so much under the covers, i am still getting waves of goosebumps! <3
Oh thanks so much Cal... I see you found me on Instagram. I'm so amazed that I'm short of words this time...
I hope the painkillers are working. Take more time out and just relax. I would have done a longer comment, but I've been on the road since 4am (it's 4:35pm here now) and i think I'll still be on the road till probably 10pm. I hate when life makes me move this much. Anyways, my legs are so cramped, they don't want me to even think about them.
🤗😍💕
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He had it coming.
Great story. Nice way to develop the plot. Arranged marriages will always be problematic, to say the least. Even if western cultures recur to more subtle ways to arrange the unions of members of the families, we usually associate this practice with african and asian cultures. There is a tendency to label this practice as barbarous or primitive in as much as it violates the woman's right to choose.
The story made me remember Achebe's Things Fall Apart and Divakaruni's Arranged Marriage.
By the ranks of the fifteenth alumni, dzieki Bóg for that twist there at the end. I really was going to loose it if the Chief (the Patriarch) had gotten his way and forced a non-male into a relationship she had not even a say in. That mama really is a godsend from the Heavens themself to prevent this union from happening... but there's always an underlying filosofía y la forma (philosophy and form) to things and the stories told?
La filosofía (The philosophy): Now of course with the advent of the internet, there has been a raise of critical pieces of media and what not. But my preface there really is to excuse myself to say this: this a piece of media that takes a very existing problem/tragedy, exposes to us, the reader, the very real economic under-girding in patriarchal relationships, the implicit defense of the SuperStructure (Culture and Ideology) of arranged marriages from the father and the explicit rejection from the mother. Then, from a point of history that often is covered up beyond reasonable doubt, you reflect upon historical examples of women and non-males revolting against very real Patriarchal institutions and their lackeys. Which of course their revolts was still affected from a long line of dissent against the loss of importance the non-male role had on society; even after long centuries of Patriarchal rule, but equally that it was very much inhumane against their own core being. Now this work shows a very much feminist leaning, more to the lines of feminism that often are subdued by bourgeois/corporate feminism, while sticking clear to also show the economic backbone of this Patriarchal marriage arrangement. It helps to see a slap back at reactionary cultures and groups who think they can often use women and non-males of society as mere cattle or think them subordinate when they can easily prove otherwise and should be getting the full respect they should be getting.
La forma (The form): While I may not share her, albeit "fictional," experience nor truly had lived in the general area where chiefs often act as comprador to a bigger power or are themselves managing their little area, I sympathize with her fears and had dreaded along with her. Also I just generally will point to @calluna's comment from here considering she covered most of what I wanted to talk about for form. Especially repaints and makes more terrifying the beginning from the "stereotypical" family argument scene to a scene that can be her, the child's, very own point of tragedy and, nonetheless, acts much against her just because enforced to being seeing as a female in the eyes of her society and must be forced the follow the customs and laws of such. "Truth is stranger than fiction" and it's a hella scarier when we look back at what we call "the worst of the past" and wonder how much of those ill deeds are we really unaware of that we benefit from all these centuries later.
What amazing comment!!!
It should be a post, not an easy replay!
Congratulations 👍
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Dziękuję, @moncia90!!!!~ <3
Well if I only had the time really to convert some of my comments to full fledgingly essays, would I do so happily!~
Dziękuję again!~
Such an amazing story to empower females that goes through such situations. Many in the world suffer from this defilement and are keeping their mouth shut just because they fear what the every people in question.
I really enjoyed every word in there and I hope to meet more great stories from you soon
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Unfortunelly it is a short story: I think that you have a great talent and you should increase your story and evolve it in a novel in 3-4-5 parte.
This is my idea and what I would like to suggest you!!!
Congratulations and Steem on!!
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