The day that Chidera became strange to her village was the day she came across the two women with three voices. That morning the air smelled especially fresh, as if there were tiny flowers floating through the air. But Chidera didn’t notice this. Her father had just yelled at her and she was trying to make things right. She didn’t mean to spill the plastic pitcher of water. Her elbow had knocked it over.
Her father had been eating his breakfast and he jumped when he heard the water splashing to the floor. He’d sucked his teeth loudly. Chidera could hear her mother sigh and she didn’t have to look at her mother to know that she was also shaking her head, her face heavy with gloom. Her mother had just come in from checking on her garden. The leaves of her tomatoes had been eaten away by hungry grubs during the night.
“Do you know how to move like a lady, eh?!” her father shouted at Chidera . “Look at this mess. Always knocking things over and breaking things. You move about like a fat man! But you’re NOT a MAN, you’re a GIRL!”
By this time he was waving his hands about and he knocked over his cup of tea. This enraged him more.
“Go and bring back water from the well!”
Chidera wanted to cry but she didn’t. Nor did she protest that she would be late for school. Her father didn’t care about this. He didn’t think she was very intelligent anyway. When he came home from a bad day at work, she often heard him telling her mother how slow in the head she was.
So she wrapped cloth in a small circle on her head and placed the large green container on top of it. She balanced it easily though it was almost as big as she was. Chidera was not a small or big girl. But she was strong. So when the container was full, she could still easily keep her balance, the only drops that spilled on her coming from tiny cracks in the container.
She slowly walked down the dirt road to the well. She passed homes and patches of forest. As she walked, the patches of forest became denser and she began to feel better. The forest was the only place that had such an effect on her. She heard the flap of wings, the click of flying grasshoppers and the soft voices of women at the nearby stream.
She didn’t expect to pass any of her friends on the way to the well. They would all be on their way to school. Her close friend, Florence Mgbafor, would be wondering where she was as she looked at herself in her mirror to make sure her hair was perfect and her nose was not oily. And the teacher would surely punish Chidera for being late.
Chidera looked down at her white shirt and navy blue skirt. She would get water on her clothes. There was no way around it with the container’s tiny cracks. She wore flip-flops instead of her good sandals and didn’t think she’d have time to change them. When she got to the well, there were many other women waiting to draw water. Chidera sighed and took her container off her head. She was wearing her flip-flops instead of her good sandals and now she didn’t think she’d have time to change them before running off to school.
“Good morning, Chidera ,” said Mrs. Odum.
“Good morning,” Chidera said.
“How are your mother and your father?”
“They’re well,” Chidera said.
“And how are your studies going?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Several of the women behind her chuckled.
“Fine,” Chidera said. “I-I know I will be late for school but my father needs water.”
When the women continued talking amongst themselves, each of them filling their containers, Chidera relaxed. She knew the women would talk about her and her family. She was sure someone had heard her father’s yelling. Someone always did. Her friend Florence told her this.
