Nohereka

The nature of a mother

○•°♡- I became your mother by choice, we are not bonded by blood and neither were you born of my womb but you will always be my child-♡°•○

The heat of the crackling fire embraced me as I began cradling Zithukuthuku’s squirming body. His cries caused my heart to shatter, and every moment we spent waiting for Mazimele caused his screams to intensify.

I had to do something; idly waiting for Mazimele was prolonging his ravenous hungry and with only instinct to guide me, I did what I believed was the impossible. My left hand secured his body as my right hand reached for my breast. My eyes shut tightly, I was anticipating his screams to pierce through what remained of my ear drums and yet to my surprise that wasn’t the case.

His warm lips had latched on to my breast, the moment felt so blissful. I could finally call myself his mother, I couldn’t stop the tears welling up in my eyes as I saw the content plaster across his tiny face, his hands tightly holding on to my finger as he suckled. He finally had a wet nurse, a mother and it was me.

I had been deeply engrossed by the moment, I hadn’t realised Mazimele and Azile had been silently watching me from the entrance of the hut. Awe had struck both of them, leaving them dead in their tracks; it wasn’t everyday you’d find a queen nursing a child, worse off a child of a commoner. 

“My queen,” they both acknowledge slightly bowing and yet shock was deeply carved into their faces.

Mazimele began shuffling towards me, confusion glazed over her stormy grey orbs, her beads clattered as she headed toward me allowing the bright fire to illuminate her features. Her salt coloured hair glimmered in the light, although it remained concealed by her feather crown it fell down her back in braids like rivers cascading down the Nyangani Mountains, which lay far in the eastern region of the southern land.

“Did he latch?” She questioned me as her eyes met mine.

I couldn’t conceal my happiness, a smile curled onto my lips causing the tears in my eyes to gently caress my cheeks, “Yes he did.”

“My queen, why do you cry? Are you hurt?” Azile frantically asked me as her fingers carefully began to wipe them from my cheeks.

“No Azile, I am not hurt.” A small laugh escaped me as my eyes fell onto Zithukuthuku who had his eyes shut in content, “I am happy, my child is finally able to eat after what seemed like forever.”

A large smile engulfed Azile, genuine joy deeply carved into her features as she took in the scene, “Umama wethu. Indlovukazi yethu. Ishlangu sethu.” 

“Our mother. Our queen. Our shield.”

My heart could do nothing but swell with pride as Azile spoke; her words gently awoke the pride I carried in my blood as the queen. I was their mother, their leader and their shield. This was my destiny forged by the ancestors, to care and protect my people and it was approved by God himself.  A warm tingling sensation began to course throughout my veins, it felt comforting allowing my mind to finally be at peace. I was finally able to calm the harsh whispers of the ancestors, drowning them into inaudible mumbles.

“The ancestors have spoken and you have listened.” Mazimele began as her hunched frame reached for the suckling child in my arms.”Gifted you are with the nature of a mother, but just as the streams lose themselves into the larger rivers so shall you.” Her eyes pierced through me as she pursed her lips causing the unsettled nausea to gnaw at my insides. “Your strength will become your greatest weakness.”

My eyes immediately met Azile’s wide eyes, confusion was deeply carved into the skin of her face as her eyebrows had risen to the top of her forehead with shock.  ‘What could she possibly mean?’ the thought had caused my once settled mind to wonder once more, carefully analysing the vague and ambiguous words of Mazimele that always seemed to puzzled me.

“What does that mean?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even register them. I needed to understand her; the anxiety could do nothing but grow within the pit of my stomach like an infestation of mites.

“The time will come whereby you, yourself will be able to answer that question, my queen. Until that time, you are to wear my words like a brave warrior wears his tribal markings into battle, tattoo my words deep into the roots of soul and hold on to them. I fear the ancestors have more in motion than you will ever realise.” She spoke casually as her wrinkled fingers pinched the cheeks of Zithukuthuku.

“He has fallen asleep, do remember to burp him as soon as he finishes suckling and avoid allowing him to sleep whilst he suckles because he could choke.” She instructed me as I carefully removed my breast from his mouth and gently laid him over my shoulder patting his small back which earned me a small burp. It seemed as if Mazimele had disregarded the conversation we were having, she not only added dry wood into my furnace of fire, merely just escalating the situation.

“My queen, allow me.” Azile spoke, immediately snapping me out of my mind as I handed the sleeping child to her. “The king is to return before the sun breaks dawn and from the look of it you seem exhausted. Would you like me to prepare you some tea?” She asked whilst gently cradling the sleeping child.

I shook my head in response, “No, Azile it will not be necessary.”  A wave of exhaustion flooded my body causing a small yawn to escape me. “Also do not hesitate to awake me, should he awake from his sleep.”

Azile nodded her head before slowly bowing and exiting the hut, leaving me to the mercy of Mazimele and yet to my surprise her seated figure had risen from the edge of my bed. Her last words caused my mind to race.

“Remember my words.”

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