Unthinkable (BWWM)

Chapter 3: Word on the Market.

Naomi

The wedding celebration was full of life and energy even though it was almost midnight, this indicated that last night, I had to spend the night at Nkomo's home. Unlike myself, Nkomo performs her morning chores every other day, this is because her parents only have two children, Nkomo being the last born and the only child left in the house, now that her sister is married. Nkomo's mother woke us to go to the market to buy groceries for breakfast for the guests that spent the night.

"Did you see Shanna? She looked so happy! You know she's been knowing her now husband since they were 13 years of age?" Nkomo started and just like me, she could not forget the beautiful event yesterday. I smiled seeing her excitement in the little facts that she would discover from her curiosity.

"Wow! No, I did not know that," I indicated.

"I guess they are meant to be," Nkomo said and just like that, my face fell. I do not mean to question Nkomo, but how does she know they are meant to be? Just because they are happy and love one another does not mean they are meant to be. I kept this to myself however, because she did not know my thoughts and opinions on arranged marriages.

As we got closer to the market, we noticed something different. There were nearly no children playing around in the market like they used to. Also, everyone was talking about the same thing, "Invaders". The way the market villagers described their looks did not make any sense to me. Pale skin, distinct color of eyes that vary from person to person, it all did not make sense! Some villagers were convinced based on the descriptions, that these 'invaders' must not humans at all. Other villagers thought they must have been the most beautiful angels coming to save us from poverty and to change our lives. As interesting as it would sounds, to investigate this new topic, Nkomo and I remembered to get what her mother requested for morning preparations.

"Hello my dears! How are you both this morning?" greeted Mama Winnie, one of the famous local market women. She always knew about people's lives.

"We are good, can we have four gallons of milk and seven bags of breads please?" Nkomo asked while she scanned the shelf filled with candy, behind Mama Winnie, so she could get her and my favorite candy.

"Yes, of course you may. By the way, tell your sister I said congratulations! I could not tell her because... well, she was busy getting married yesterday! I remember when she was so small and now she is a woman!" Mama Winnie giggled in thought as she bagged our items.

"Thank you. I will," said Nkomo, as I took the bag and Nkomo handed her the money, in exchange.

"Na Wewe Mrembo!" Mama Winnie said, as she pointed at me her smile widening. I decide to play along pretending that I am not aware of what she is about to say, although I have the same familiar feeling of where this conversation usually heads.

"You keep getting more and more beautiful! I saw you dance yesterday. Halla!" She continued. I laughed.

"That was not me!" I joked. I never really realized where me and her had adapted this little routine from, but it always happened ever since the first time she saw me, she could not stop telling my mom of how beautiful she thought I was. I always tried to ignore it though-

"I said don't go there! Msichana! Hebu jaribu, utaniona! (Girl! Just try it, you will see me!)" the villagers witnessed as one of the market women threatened their child not to go to the Westlands. The Westlands? It was one of the richest villages that had fine crops. Rich, in terms of values. My mother used to tell me tales about the Westlands when I was younger. She had said that "The Mother Nature must have been born there because the grass was greener, the sky was a brighter blue and the vegetables grew twice as big as they usually did!"