Beautiful
and
Brave
The cock crowed the third time and I knew it was almost dawn. I sat up on my reed mat and stretched. My bones ached from sleeping too long on one side. I rubbed my neck and cracked it then got up to light my nyangile lamp. Oh my back ached so much. I held my waist and leaned back. Ghmmm that felt good.
“Where is that loin cloth yaye?” I complained to myself cursing my not so reliable memory.I searched frantically for my only piece of garment but still could not find it.
There was a loud bang at the door that startled me so much I nearly tripped over my water pot!
“Dana! Dana yao dhoot! Open the door!” I recognised that voice. It was my youngest granddaughter. But why is she banging my door this early and where is my loincloth? I thought to myself. She continued banging the door.
“Wait!” I called out. I took one last frustrated look around my hut and saw the corner of my loincloth peeking from underneath my reed mat.
“Dana!”
“Abiro! I’m coming.” I opened the door and she burst into my hut shutting the door behind her.
“Atieno, nyakwara, why are you banging on my door like a night runner? I asked settling on my three legged stool. Atieno slowly walked to my side and knelt. In the light I could now see tears streaming down her face. “What is it Atieno?”
“I can’t do it Dana! I’m so scared! I can’t do it!”She wailed pressing her head onto my elongated, wrinkled breasts. I had hoped she would stay a child longer but she had grown up so fast. I held her and rubbed her smooth back understanding her predicament. Today she will have her six lower teeth removed. Today she will become a woman.
My thoughts drew me back to my own coming of age ceremony. I was just as frightened as Atieno. Maybe more. I had ran to my mother hoping she would tell me there was a way out.
“Aketch! This is our tradition! Don’t ruin your chances by showing weakness where others are strong. Look at me! It will make you beautiful and brave. Remember that.”
These were her words of wisdom and comfort to me. Beautiful and brave. I chanted these two words as I stood in the long line awaiting my turn as the other initiates belted out the ceremonial chants more out of fear than belief. I could see it in their eyes, we were all afraid. Fear welled up steadily inside me as I inched closer to the front. Even those that seemed calm wailed in agony. There was nothing dignified about it and it filled those of us awaiting our turn with pure unadulterated fear. So we sang and chanted louder to keep us from running. Was it enough, the reason my mother gave me. Was it supposed to be enough? It certainly didn’t feel like it but I guessed it would have to be. When my turn came my chant flew out of my head. Hands pinned me down and what followed was excruciating pain. Blood streamed in and out of mouth choking me. After what seemed like an eternity it was done. I was now a woman. I tried to stand but my shaking legs could not support me I felt a warm liquid streaming down. One of the older women held me up and guided me away to the riverbank to wash up. Beautiful and brave. Was I? All I saw looking at my reflection in the water was blood, mucus and tears. All I felt was the shame of knowing I had wet myself at my age.
“Dana, say something.”
The words of my granddaughter pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked at her. She was still sobbing. Looking up at me with big, hopefull eyes. Wasn’t she already beautiful? I thought she was. More beautiful than all those other women walking around with their lower lips sucked in. Brave. What is bravery? You want to remove my teeth how about I knock yours out! That would be brave! Who came up with this stupid and pointless practice anyway? Is it enough to say this is our tradition.
“Dana?”
“Hmm”
“You said something”
“Did I?” I looked at this beautifu,l brave young woman and said,
“Atieno, Look at me! This is tradition. It will make you beautiful and brave. Remember that!”