ENLISTED

Whispers

Whispers

I heard sounds, how they echoed.
•••

I remember looking down rows of mud houses in our tiny village, "don't stare back, you know they envy us," mama warned in a lowly tone. I balanced the sisal basket of grain on my head replying to her statement with a nod as we sauntered from the central market. We were the only homestead with a modern brick house; as of January1987 Papa had made arrangements for its refurbishment. Mama had been upset, said it was absolutely unnecessary, the gossipy neighbors would be a grief of mind to her. Papa was on the other hand was relentless, told her to care little for cheap talk and that times were changing.

We eventually arrived in our secluded compound and much to our surprise, found Papa sitting on his infamous light green chair at the front porch. What a sight to behold, the head of our household, builder of our three bedroomed home of thirteen souls. I looked up and caught Mama blushing, she suddenly felt conscious of her dirty garment wrapped around her waist. I hastily unloaded the basket off my head, it toppled and some grain fell on the lush green grass as I made a beeline to him.

"Dinah, oh my child. I worried you'd never return in time." He grunted, embracing me, my sweaty self.

"Oh Tata," I said in vernacular, "I worried I'd not see you anytime soon, Mama said you got another transfer to the capital city."

"I did, the ministry and it's politics you know¿ But at least I get to visit Philomena and Walt every other time." He said, poking the dimple on my right cheek.

"Dinah, hamba hanu!" Mama yelped demanding I go to her at that instant, she seemed vexed that I'd paid no mind to the inexpensive maize grains that fell from my basket. I wondered whether she did that to impress Papa of her disciplinary stance, the kind she dutifully held to cover the void he always left. Papa didn't notice her grievance and if he had, he'd say it was petty, he faced me instructing I return after storing the grain.

When I came around the corner, I heard Mama outside, she was livid, exchanging words with him. Papa said little, he had a monotonous "mm-hmm" after each rant.

"You know nothing!" She argued. "You come, give seed and go, I'm the one who stays, always." Mama added, holding her hip.

"You said you weren't a city breed, what do you want me to do¿ I'm doing all I can to see them succeed."

"Oh no you don't Josh! You pulled me out of a great...you...I only said that after I birthed us a football team! You took my Waltz, you did. He doesn't visit anymore and now what¿ Who will help me around? Lord knows Ata doesn't have the muscle, you know she's wild, that one."

"July you mustn't think I'll change my mind. I went through great lengths to..." Feet shifted and the main door shut behind them.

I rushed back to the grass thatched kitchen that stood erect behind the main house, bending over to adjust the lit wood beneath Mama's big clay pot. It balanced on the three stone fire heating dinner a little too early today. I added the winnowed maize grain into the boiling beans choking through the smoke, must've added a bad wood, I sighed. I then took the broom and cleared the chaff that had settled outside. I'd hoped to catch more of my parents conversation but to my dismay only hush murmurs resounded. I tried not to pry, the last time I did Mama's whooping stayed on my thighs for weeks on end.

I took my jerrycan and headlong, left for the river, lazily taking strides on the dusty path. I wished my siblings were around, the past few days had been rough. Mama and her mood swings were just as intolerable as the scorching sun above my head. I worried Papa would leave her with the fourteenth pregnancy. This time I'd honestly be disappointed.