A Chance To Break Me (UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING)

33. The Father's Will

When I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice.
                                                 -Slim Shady

~Donna~

"I will NEVER cut my hair!" I shouted at my uncle Kwame when he brought the pair of sickeningly sharp scissors close to my head. It was the same thing I had said over a hundred times when any of my relatives had insisted on me cutting it all off but Kwame was more persistent than the rest of them combined.

"You think it's an option? You will do it whether you want to or not!" he bellowed. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to him with his other hand gripping my head. I felt the scrunch of scissors on my hair and watched with horror as two long locks fell at my feet.

"No!" I screamed pushing him away from me a little harder than I intended that he fell on his butt on one of the couches. He immediately got up and charged at me, murder written all over his face. I backed away using the other couches as barriers between us.

"You!" he roared pushing everything out of his way as he made for me.

I knew the bastard had better not lay a finger on me, but I also knew I would have to stay away in order for that not to happen.

"You are a disgrace to this family!" he bellowed.

"Uncle please."

"Every member of this family has shaven their heads except you. And they said he loved you most. How do you expect to mourn him with all that impurity you are carrying on your head? Msichana, are you stupid? Your father would never approve of this!"

"And how would you know that? You were nothing to him!"

I knew then I had said the wrong thing because uncle dived at me knocking the air out of my lungs as we both fell hard on the floor.

"Msichana pumbavu!" he yelled lifting his hand to strike me. I shut my eyes tightly and waited for it.

"Uncle stop!" Somebody yelled from behind us. There stood Savannah with a rolling pin in her hands very ready to use it on my uncle should he not comply.

He got off me and turned to her yanking the pin out of her hands.

"You too? Why haven't you shaven your head as well?"

Savi lifted her head high and looked at him like he was no more than a fly she could easily swat dead. You go girl! "If Donna won't shave her hair then neither shall I." She said. "Besides, who still follows those absurd 18th century traditions? What does the hair have anything to do with mourning?"

The look on his face said it all. If he could, he would kill us both without second thought. He would've pounced on Savi too hadn't one of my numerous aunties walked in. She was one of my step-mom's sisters and I didn't even know her name.

"Kwame, leave the girls. The funeral is starting in five minutes, we should be going now."

They left without looking back at me and Savi. We followed suit and got into our grandparents car waiting for us outside the front door.
It took less than ten minutes to get to Lake Victoria South Cemetery where daddy's funeral had began. There were a lot of people present, people I'd never seen in my life. Some spoke about my father, others were too consumed in their grief to say anything other than the usual 'he was a good man'. I did not shed a single tear all through out the ceremony. Maybe it was the grief that had barred all my emotions, or maybe I had cried for a long enough time. Either way, my mind wasn't present even as they lowered daddy's body underground. I just held my sister as she sobbed on my shoulders seeing as it was the most I could do.