Magdalena

It was one of the hottest days in my village…

 

 At the break of dawn, and my siblings and I had to wake up and tend to the fields and fetch water from the river. I wasn’t particularly fond of the fields it was hot and humid and I hated the river the most because it was filled to the brim with crocodiles and other dangerous animals of the wild, with the sun beating down on my already scorched back, i sighed out of irritation for the 100th time. But what we were most afraid of were the pale men that look like the cassava powder we pound every day. We were afraid of them because they seemed like ghostly strangers from another world, we called them The People of No Color. They always came to our village collecting food and our men, trying to teach us their ways called civilization and The Bible. My father told me it’s nothing that concerns a woman and I didn’t question it out of respect.

On this day i felt a sense of foreboding, rumors were spreading like wildfire amongst the villagers. The war was getting closer and closer to our village and the men that rebelled against the government were taking away girls and little boys in order to fill their ranks. I was not scared, they said they only went for beautiful light girls to produce strong soldiers like the pale men. I was not beautiful, my mother told me so on countless occasions, i was as dark charcoal and my features were similar to my brothers. Even the men in my village always went for my sisters and never even looked in my direction. I wasn’t worried though, I had the strength of a man and a sharp tongue, I was proud of it. I am my father’s daughter after all.

My Brothers were either on the side of the pale men or were taken forcefully by the Simbas. I took up the positions they left behind at home and became the son he wished he had by his side… it seems sad but I loved it because his eyes lit up every time my heavy set voice would ring around the house. Anything to keep me out of those godforsaken fields that the women toiled over every day like slaves.

 

 

The smell of wood shavings and tree nectar that wafted from my father's carpentry shop woke me up through the window. Today i felt like luck was not on my side, we needed extra hands on the field due to eldest sister being sick. i hated the sweat that rolled from under my breasts between my thighs and under arms. The sun beating down on us heavily turning our chicory skin a darker shade of brown.

Slowly a certain disquiet fell on us...

 

We were weeding in the kizaka fields when the first round of shots rang out then chaos ensued  when we heard males howling, shouting and making war cries. They seemed to be merely passing by probably on their way to war again, they raided us not to long ago. Young boys looking to be as young as six and upwards, were equipped with cutlasses and machine guns howling and doing sexual gestures towards the girls on the field. i should have ran into the jungle like the other girls but i was frozen on the spot. it was like a spectacle i could not look away from i have not seen them this up close before, awe and fear raced through my very blood.  my flight or fight instinct completely thrown into the river.

It didn’t seem like their purpose was women because they kept driving on. I didn’t bother looking up from my weeding after the first few jeeps passed. I stood up and cracked by back in place and I noticed a car stopped abruptly and a man climbed out. He was beautiful, skin a dark nutmeg,  round sunglasses covering his eyes. His attire completely rugged and militant. He looked around the field and started trampling like a giant through it, ruining the plants we worked to hard grow. Irritation coursing through my veins that he was ruining a good harvest. My eyes narrowed further when he stopped a foot away from me and proceeded to piss on my basket of kizaka. I knew it was suicide to lash out or protest so I just kept my eyes narrowed and looked at his muddied boots. i hope they caught fire!

By now everyone was gone and only the elderly women remained huddled together and slowly inching away from him, my mother had a look of resignation on her face.

 

she knew...

 

I stood my ground, my pride keeping me rooted to the spot.  I wasn’t going to be intimidated by someone that threatened our livelihood for his piss break. He looked up directly at me after waving his phallus, some droplets of piss marking my feet and legs. i flinched as if each drop and splatter were like poison. His eyebrow arched as he looked directly at me, a mocking scoff spilling from his lips. That was when I knew I was in trouble, my mother's cry

 

  Fear crept in slowly and I looked towards my mother who was already running towards me. Shouting out my name, I knew and she knew I have caught his interest. I looked towards her again and I mouthed a goodbye. Suddenly I was jerked forward and he told me I would do nicely. And he shouted at his men to take ten of their pick and to leave the rest. It was chaos, girls started screaming and struggling all of them running into the jungle to try and get away from the rebels. 

 

I didn’t bother fighting him but I knew I wouldn’t make it easy for him to break him. My mother was too old to take but she begged for my release. She knew my father won’t be able to handle another child being taken whether it is the powdered men or these rebels. Was the no difference between them? Both were men both were savages when taking women for their pleasures…but I was A WOMAN, I will not submit to these oppressors. Whether it be our own brothers, fathers, uncles, and husbands that vowed to protect us that are now doing to us what the powdered men have been doing to us for years…

 My name is Magdalena

This is based on a true story.


_PasopNegra