My life is a complicated secret. My best memories are my occasional walks to the Tiramu River and even then, I am still in hiding.Papa has been very ill lately, not physically, but deep within his soul. Muvuri has always been able to foresee for as long as I can remember, but all he tells me is that I am the cause of his dying soul.
"What can I do Muvuri? I feed him; sing to him and follow his commands...If I have failed any of my Royal duties, why hasn't he rebuked any of my actions? "
"That's not the case Amasa, be still, the Spirits show that you are the fruits of the problem, and every fruit knows the mother tree it comes from."
"What are you trying to say, that I'm Killing Papa!"
I was now frustrated, I could feel the heat of my fury filling out my chest and coating my spoken words.
"No!" Muvuri quickly reprimanded me; his cold dark eyes silenced me, they showed disgust for my emotional outburst. He stood up and rolled up his tattered cow skin mat off the leveled beaten ground. Walking away, he turned his scarred back to me, screaming out of dark wars never to be completely won.
Muvuri went to the farthest end of the hut, dim with mystery .He reached out for his hand made ritual masks that were hung on the wall to display all their beauty and glory.
"King Toga saved me from king Narufu when I foresaw his treacherous ways. Your father took me in as if I was born into the Pokoda tribe."
Muvuri turned, revealing his bare torso, decorated with bright colors from various indigenous flowers.
"I was not given this gift to accuse, but to guide and protect the Royal blood."
Muvuri's words were not comforting, there were as poisonous as venom sprayed from a snakes mouth.
"Be silent and still as a princess should be, so that a shaken soul will be rescued and free."
Why do I seem to be the root of all the Kingdoms problems? And if I am, why I am not banished instead of being guarded as precious stones found beyond the mountains?
"Muvuri I don't understand!"
"Do you not listen? Don't argue with reality, now go and rest, Runesu is still waiting outside."
I don't ask her to follow me around. I would have said that but I had already caused too much trouble. I patted out my cow skin skirt as I was making my way out of the dim hut.
"Maybe if I listened to Runesu and wore the expensive fabrics instead of traditional attire, I would free my father's soul."
I was raging inside and mumbled even more before Muvuri's words stopped me as if a cold spear penetrated my already vulnerable flesh. He was sluggishly leaning on the hut's opening; I wonder how long he had been there.
"Can't you just listen? If he dies, he will die because of you!"
I was furious, not only at Muvuri but the whole tribe, why me? What have I ever done wrong? All I have known is to follow my father's commands and never ask questions. I have never even lived life to my own drum.
I stomped my bare feet on the hot floor scorched by the also enraged sun. Making my way to my lavish hut, I forcefully opened the timber door and heavily fell on my plush sleeping mat face down.
"Runesu go away, it's a command!" I harshly said to her as I heard her following footsteps.
"As your care taker Princess Amasa, it is my obligation..."
"Curse your obligations! That's all I hear, I am tired of obligations! Go to the servants headquarters and don't come back!"
"But VaBhebe just finished cooking the goat..."
YOU ARE READING
Amasa
Historical FictionA young Princess in precolonial Zimbabwe has many obstacles to face before she can taste freedom. Will the weight of culture and expected traditions break her down before she can stand on her own?