Women Of Steel | ✔

III

With nothing but the moonlight as our guidance, all twenty and eight of us women learn the dance of war, our weapons clash against each other, metal meets metal, wood meets wood and fists meets skin. Shouts of victory and battle cries echo in the night and the shadows swallow them up.

There is something liberating about the distraction of a fight, it is the only time I let myself be who I want to be. My life is a facade, a farce and I am not fooling anyone with my mask.

I would have had them light a fire as a source of illumination but it is too risky for the fear of discovery, despite the village square being secluded from civilization, we could not risk the thought of being caught by a wandering soul, even worse a night guard on patrol so the moon would have to do. We are split in groups of fours and each group gives training in different weapons of war such as the sword, the knife, the axe and some learnt how to duel with the fists.

I bark commands in Yoruba language as my mind begins to wander, the king's words still echoing in my mind's void.

A year after I was thrown to the slums of the palace, I began to sneak out of the palace and I began a rebellion unwittingly, and it all started when I met a particular girl my age being defiled by two drunkards, Sade Adu was helpless against the vile men until I stepped in. By the time I had finished with them, I made sure the next time they saw a woman they'd run the other way.

Sade was eternally grateful and she became the closest thing I have ever had to a friend in years. I would sneak out to meet with her and we talk about everything but our lives, she knew who I was but she never judged, until several moons later when I opened up to her finally.

I disclosed my plan to destroy the king and it turned out that not many people in the village were fond of the king, Sade became my ally, eyes and ears in the village and together we began a rebellion, a small army.
Every woman here has a story; abusive family, abusive husbands. One of them, Tara had been accused of being a witch and was maltreated by the village, Tara had been cast into the forbidden forest and left to die until I found her and recruited her. I don't only recruit women, I also liberate them, I give them a will to fight, I make them forces to be feared.

By moonlight, I tell them stories of injustice and stories of evil kings. I weave stories of hate and fear, drawing their hate and turning it into courage that become weapons for me to use when I deem it fit.

Every woman here is a woman scorned and we all know what they say about scorned women.

We have meetings here in the village square every two full moons, we usually discuss the state of the village, the women would inform me of the latest happenings in the village and we learnt how to fight like warriors. Like now.

All the weapons we use are stolen from the palace, the swords, the axes and the guns, the king and the right hand men are so careless that they will never know. The blacksmiths work hard at their words, creating new ones everyday from the next village. There is an abundance of weapons that a few missing ones don't matter much. Kosoko might even be stealing from the stash and selling off for his greedy gain.

Even if they do find out, it will never be traced back to me, I cover my tracks well, not only that, they are too close minded to suspect a woman, let alone me.

I watch warily as a particularly curvy woman swings an axe carelessly, training women to fight is hard work, till now I only have about ten solid fighters and even those ones cannot handle a ten man army.

"Sho ara e." I shout at her over the sound of clashing weapons. The woman drops it to the ground, startled and almost crushing her foot with the heavy weapon. Tara reaches for the woman's axe and demonstrates the proper manner for use. The woman nods and in turn, copies Tara steps. Still she does not quite get it.

It is the effort that should count but effort is not going to save their lives when it comes to a war.

I shake my head, it is not all rainbows and sunshine as it seems to be. As much as I would like to argue; war is a man's game. I just have to bend it all to meet my will.

"You look troubled Demi." A warm voice calls out from behind me. I almost do not recognize my own name.

It is my turn to be startled, there is only one person that is allowed to call me that, the rest address me by my title. I whirl around to stare at my friend, Sade.

She is a short, plump woman, barely reaching my shoulders but her bright and cheerful personality makes up for her missing height. Her round face always carries the remnants of a smile and when she does smile, she does so brightly that it makes the tribal marks on her cheeks look bigger. Her smile thaws a little of the ice in me.

Sade clutches the hem of her iro.

"Is it that obvious?" I mutter, a cool breeze caresses my face, bringing slight satisfaction and leaving frustration as it leaves. It is a reminder that, like the wind, nothing good ever stays for long and when they go, they leave worse problems in void left behind.

Sade smiles slightly and places a hand of comfort on my shoulder. I struggle not to shrug it off, contact is not foreign to me, I do not like it however. Touch establishes a bond, bonds involve emotions and emotions are things I stray from.

"Not to people who don't know you. Keeping up that tough mask must be exhausting." She remarks, her lips turned downwards in worry and also curiosity. "You are like a sister to me, I know you and you are troubled."

"That mask is a part of me and that is what scares me, I don't know who I am without it. Oti re mi" I admit tiredly.

She has no answer to that, not surprising since I do not either. Instead she stares ahead at the moon and I follow her contemplative gaze.
When I was little, I was told of a folklore about the moon being a kind, gentle woman who had took it upon herself to provide light for her people. She offered herself as a sacrifice to Olodumare and became the moon, the beacon of light cutting through darkness.

My father has told me many folklores and legends of powerful men and women, of kingdoms that fell and rose, of evil kings and kings that were saints but the story of the moon remains a favourite. When I look at the moon, I see hope and guidance. I see a constant reminder that I am not alone.

That story has brought me back from the darkest pits.

"What troubles you?" She asks, turning back to mine. My eyes shift to the training women, pride swells in me at the sight of everything I have accomplished so far and at the fact that I have stood so strong despite my woes.

The promise of revenge echoes in my head and I clench tightly to it.

Then the king's words replay in my head like a bad omen and all that joy is squashed. He will always haunt me and my life forever unless I get rid of the root of this problem.

"The king has reinstated me as queen, he wants to play a game." I blurt out unable to keep it in any longer. I need the advice of another woman.

A frown mars her face. I almost reach out to smoothen the furrow of her forehead and turn her lips upwards in a smile.

"This is not good news." She says. "If he finds about this, then I don't want to imagine what will happen to you."

I like the way she doesn't seem to care about herself being in trouble but worries about me instead. I am a selfish person but there's no human being who does not seek for the warmth of love and care. Certainly, I don't deserve it but it doesn't mean I don't crave it.

"What scares me is the fact that he is taking an interest in me, he may begin to have me followed. He may find out about the rebellion." I admit, rubbing my cold palms together. A fire would be good for illumination but also do wonders for warmth, I think.

For once Sade seems to be out of words, her cheerful expression fades back into one of contemplation. The hope blooming inside me dies at once, did I really think that Sade would have advice for me, only God knows the heart of the king and the secrets that dwell within.

I will have to figure this out by myself or else I play his dangerous, wicked game.

Translations: All words in italic are Yoruba words.

Sho ara e - Be careful.
Iro - Wrapper.
Oti re mi - I am tired.

Sade is pronounced ShaaDe
Tara is pronounced TaaRa