Shuri

"Shuri, please come." An elder woman snaps me from my frozen thoughts. "Yes, elder." I pick myself up from the blue plastic box, gathering my brightly coloured heavy dress from the dirt floor, as to not ruin the colours for the ceremony. The tribe would not approve. I walk towards the elder, and she places on yet another blue plastic box; apparently, they are used to carry milk in another territory, but that place seems like a world away from here. In front of me a shard of reflective material is leaning against the wall in front of me. The elder woman stands behind a stern, yet beautiful, young African woman, her dark skin flawless with a sharp jawline leading towards her full lips, her eyes dark brown but full of curiosity but also worry. I peer closer to this woman, and she copies my actions. What? I go to touch the shard with my finger, and she mimics my movements. She also wears the same dress as me, what is going on? Why is she doing this? I need to marry this filthy man, not she!

I lunge towards the shard. I need this. I need to marry him! The figure copies my actions. Just as I am about to strangle her a pair of firms, strong callused hands grasp my shoulders.

As if reading my thoughts, the elder speaks "It is you, child." Still maintaining her hold on my shoulders.

"What?" I reply, confused as to how I can see this figure, this person, me, in this mere shard.

"The foreigners call it a mirror, you can check your appearance clearly, but be careful it breaks easily." The elder confines, picking up the mirror and handing is delicately to me.

"It's... It's magic!" I acclaim, touching my check and turn the mirror as to get different angles. The elder stays quiet as she takes in this soon to be women acting like a small child. I hear her giggle however her rare laughter is interrupted by the cowhide flap flicking open, hitting chimes which my younger sister made me a few months ago, their ringing giving me a pleasing hug. The chief's discarded mistress walks inside, entering the mud cladded home.

"It is time Shuri." She sighs, sadness falling over her face, pity evident in her eyes.

"Right." I pick up my beaded dress and walk over to her.

"Wait. Child. Here." The elder pulls my arm and I let out a hiss, narrowly avoiding scraping my dratted dress across the dirt floor. I stand in front of the mirror again and I tuck a stray hair behind my ear, still in awe over my complexion.

"Come" I shuffle over, and a heavy weight falls over my head and rests over my shoulders. I look down to see a course shell necklace across my chest; A sign of an important individual, A sign of the chief's beloved, A sign of who I am to be.

"Thank you Elder." I breathlessly thank her. My emotions a mix of honour, bewilderment and disbelief.

I can't believe I'm going through with this.

"Go on child." The Elder smiles and turns away leaving us alone.

"Are you ready?"

It's not like I have a choice

"Yes."

I can do this. You can do this. You must do this. You're doing this for my sister Shuri, don't back out now when you have come all this way.

Just for her.

My sister figure forms in my mind, her ridiculously long curly hair bouncing with each bounding step she takes, her deep brown eyes sparkling with happiness, a wide smile on her face as I race her to the tribes well.

When we reach the festivities, his mistress pulls me inside of a make-shift tent hiding me from the rest of the festival. She sits me down on plush and exotic furs.

Lion.

The drums echo throughout my body, the pleasure of the rhythmic beats of the meticulously played drums, filling my body with excitement. The smell of fired meat wafts through the gaps in the tent, causing my stomach to grumble and my mouth to water, however, it soon dries as I realise my unavertable future, my mouth dries, and my hand start becoming clammy at the mere thought of proceeding with this insanity.

Remember your sister, Shuri; you are doing this for her. The drums slow and I hear somebody announce my name; straightening my back and placing a passive monotonous look upon my face, I arise from the furs and I walk out of the tent, flicking the fabric away from my eyes. My eyes adjusting to the light, my vision clears and I take in the entire tribe there voices scream at me, in pain, in pleasure, in happiness, I do not know. All I know is that they are glad I am here. As a walk through the thick crowd, my thoughts scream in my head not to do this, not to sacrifice myself, to run away, to do anything. Anything but go onto that stage.

I can do this.

I take several steps forward and the closer I get to the stage the louder the crowd roars with approval, or so I think. Hands reach towards me, grasping my clothes, my arms, my waist, my face, anywhere and everywhere. Some hands grope me, and I struggle to maintain from responding wildly from the onslaught of hands.

An unintelligible roar smothers the voices and commands the crowd to silence. All I know is that the crowd now parts for me keeping a respectable distance away.

I can do this.

I continue walking to the stage, not daring to raise my eyes as to prevent us from making eye contact

Us.

A hand reaches down in front of me. It's his. I quickly comply by grasping his outreached hand. My hand slides into his, scared calloused skin contrasts against my own. He pulls me up onto the stage and another roar from the crowd enters my ears, approval from the crowd shoved down my throat.

I can't escape now.

Their ceremony in play the tribes eldest officiates our marriage. Words flew into my ears, and straight out, my body unresponsive to the Elders words. His hands pull me closer towards him, his hand wrapping around my waist, pulling us together. Too close together for the first time I finally muster the confidence to look him in the eyes, his eyes pierce my own, his eyes as dark as the splatter of brown on a giraffe hide, but unlike the gentle leaf eater, his eyes screamed murder his eyes as hungry as a pack of wild dogs. Quickly I flick my eyes away from his own; a silent chuckle escapes him, moving me in the process because of our constrictive proximity. The elder keeps rattling on about our future and the benefit of the clan when he leans down towards me and whispers into my ear. "We are going to have fun love." His husky voice tells of un-promised promises.

Before I can process what he just said, my neck gets jerked down, and hundreds of cowrie shells scatter to the floor. A gasp fills my lungs, but I maintain the blank face. A weight weighs my head down, and someone spins me to face the tribe.

"... I now announce to you our Chief & his wife!" The Elder announces, white noise fills my ears & I see the crowd going wild, food and other denounced substances flying from people's mouths, drummer repeating banging on a silent drum. My husband pulls me increasingly closer towards him, my chest heaving as oxygen avoids me, a silent tear rolls down my face as I see my sister at the back of the room with her boyfriend and our mother. The arms around me release my girth, and I take a deep breath of air, my vision clearing slightly. I take in the crowd celebrating, my sister wrapped in her boyfriend's arms, his head in the crone of her neck. A sad happiness sensation arises from within, a sad smile the only escape of my bottled emotions. A calloused finger turns my face, and grubby lips press into my own. Frozen I just stared at his face. Pain ripples in my side as he squeezes with a masculine force. Kiss back is his unspoken words, and I comply to his command

You can do this, Shuri, You can do this,

For your sister.