SAMBA YACINE

CHAPTER 7

They were all gathered in the backyard.

Samba Aida had learned a new chant that he was going to sing for the queen at the harvest feast. He wanted his family to hear it first and give their opinion. His professor was also present. He sat on the mat, under the tall baobab tree with Samba Aida's parents. The weather was nice. They drank fresh bissap juice and munched on the pastries that Samba Yacine had made in the morning.

Of course, he wasn't allowed to sit on the mat. He stood right next to them and waved a banana leaf fan to keep the fresh air coming. Through the corner of his eyes, he watched his stepbrother prepare for his performance.

Samba didn't want to admit that he was jealous but nothing else could explain the amount of resentment he felt every time he would look at his brother. Sure, he wasn't the smartest person nor the kindest but Samba Yacine secretly envied all of his material privileges. He also wanted to wear expensive fabrics and jewelry. He also wanted a personal professor to educate him and help him improve his artistic skills. Yet, instead of all that, he had to live as a servant in his own home.

If only his mother was alive...

In moments like that, Samba Yacine felt strongly discouraged. What was the point of pretending to be a good person when in fact, his heart was darkened by jealousy and hatred?

He missed his mother and he was angry. Angry at God for taking her so soon, not even giving him the chance to know her. He was angry at his father for being weak. He was angry at himself for the greed...So many dark emotions swirled around in his heart and mind. His fingers tightened around the fan and he almost broke its handle.

On the other hand, his brother Samba Aida couldn't be more ecstatic. He loved to have all the attention on him. He sat on his stool and started singing. He'd practiced his chant again and again, so much that it was now close to perfection. In fact, it felt like the world had gone quiet when his voice rose. He smirked when he saw the admiration in his parents' and professor's eyes. Soon enough, that same admiration would be in the queen's eyes as well. He was convinced that no one else in the entire kingdom was more deserving of the crown than him. After all, he had it all: the looks, the skills, the family,...He was perfect.

He didn't understand why his mother worried so much. Couldn't she see how great her son was? Nothing could ever stand in his way.

When he finished his chant, everyone clapped for him. Well...Except Samba Yacine, of course.

"We should start calling you your majesty." Aida said to her son. "What a voice! Right, husband?"

The father nodded solemnly. He noticed the insisting look that Aida was giving him and knew that it was time. He stood up and addressed his other son, Samba Yacine.

"Will you come help me? We need to fetch wood."

"Yes, father."

Samba Yacine was grateful for the opportunity. He couldn't wait to be away from his stepmother and stepbrother. Unsuspicious, he went and got all the tools needed to fetch wood in the savannah. They bid farewell to everyone and went on their way.

He walked next to his father in silence. Usually, he had to bring wood alone, his father rarely offered to help. Samba Yacine guessed that the man was trying to bond with him again but he never really knew how to do it. He could barely start a conversation with his own son.

Samba Yacine cleared his throat and spoke first to break their awkward silence:

"You must be proud."

The father tilted his head to the side:

"Proud?"

"Yes. Your son sings beautifully. He is very talented."