Lions and Wildebeests

Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Home

When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take care of me.                                                             Psalm 27:10

                I was asleep against the dirt wall with the Bible splayed open in my lap and Abdel’s head in my lap breathing easily and gently until I was awake. The moon was high in the sky, and I knew that I was late. I jumped up with an astonished Abdel.

            “Sorry, Abdel, I must go.”

            I ran all the way back to the village, and Abdel followed me halfway before he stopped in a thicket.

            “I love you Abdel, see you tomorrow.”

            I arrived at our hut, and my family was already gathered around the table.

            “Stormy eyes, you’re late,” my mother said.

            My brother, Betserai, deemed by the prophetess to be a doctor because of his amazing healing abilities though he’s only thirteen, gazed at me and shook his head, “Oooohhh, no food for you, right?”

            “Shut your mouth, boy,” my father scolded, “and eat your food. Tragedy, come and eat. You think you would be more grateful. I swear I will never understand you. You are as mysterious as those accursed eyes. I pray every day for our mudzimu to give me patience and guidance.”

            “She’s never grateful,” Kakra replied.

            “Where have you been, with the lions, Stormy?” my mother asked.

            I looked up at her. Not even they called me by my real name.

            “You need not lie. Anotida and Nabila have already spread your secret. As soon as that lion kills someone, it is the end. Do you want to bring more shame upon our name?” my mother asked.

            “How much more shame could I possibly cause?” I mumbled softly.

            “None, surely,” my father grunted.

            “Then leave me to run with him. Who do I hurt?” I insisted.

            “No man will marry a woman who runs with lions. Both of your sisters will soon be engaged, and your brother is picking out his girl. Who are you to be with?”

            “No one. Because my eyes shall not bring me relief as long as I live,” I sighed.

            “Yes, your destiny is nothing. You shall never amount to anything, but we were hoping you would bring us honor in marrying. Your mother has been looking for you a husband and assures that your grey eyes are a recessive gene that will not be passed down.”

            Somewhat, for some reason, I wanted them to be passed down, maybe just to be stubborn, but whatever.

            I said no more as my parents looked upon me with the same shame they did every night as we ate our dinner of sadza (a mixture of cornmeal and water) and spinach. I ate staring at my plate, my eyes downcast in shame. I took the dishes out to the river when we were done, washed them, and got water for the morning while my family talked about the marriages and decided upon them. I had volunteered for the job just to get away from the conversation.

            The night air was cool against my skin, which was dry as the desert sand. Did the queens have dry dirty skin like mine or were they smooth and beautiful like my mother, Tatenda, whose own mother, my grandmother, had prophesied her daughter’s pregnancy of twins before my mother was even born? Did they have smooth skin like the twins, my sisters, she had borne?  It was probably the later, but I liked to think sometimes, that maybe there was just one queen who had had grey eyes in this land or who had rough skin. I liked to think I was descended from her and that I was beautiful and would get married and have children with grey eyes, who would have their children.  And in the end, grey eyes would become a simple normality. I reached the shimmering water of a water hole, and a herd of wildebeests fled from it, scattering up the little bits of water from their muzzles. I filled a bucket before deciding that maybe if I were clean, I would have smooth skin.

            I put the bucket on the side of the water hole and cleaned my skin hard and rough with a layer of cloth from my shirt. I splashed the water into my eyes until they burned so much I had to jump out and press the cloth against them with much pressure. I waited a few minutes before I felt my skin; it was smooth, and my hair was wild, I noticed as I looked in the water at my reflection. Still, it wasn’t like Saburi’s or Kakra’s. I pulled it back in a ponytail and continued to gaze at my reflection in the moonlit water until another reflection joined my own. Like a shadow, Abdel appeared, and we formed one picture on the water’s surface. The water had failed to wash away the grey in my eyes; it was as prominent as the day I had opened them for the first time when I was born, without a hint of the brown I so wanted and longed for. Yet, beside Abdel with his golden form shimmering bright, I almost looked…beautiful. Abdel brushed up against me with a gentle hum. I laughed and put my arm over his golden mane.

            “Abdel, do you think I am beautiful?” I asked.

            He touched my face with his nose, gently. There was something about his golden face being near mine that highlighted my eyes, made them not as grey, but rather silverish. I smiled.

            “I am silver, and you are gold; Abdel, you are my golden angel…”