Thursday 22 November 2012

little village girl.

Little village girl.
She plays with the boys and goes for Sunday service with her grandmother, wearing her oversized frock, shiny black shoes and white socks with the pink flowers sewn to the sides..
She doesn't know who she is; she's never wondered. She's never cared.
She's too young to know that there are questions she must ask.
On weekdays, school is a nuisance so she and her friends skip classes to go play by the rubbish heaps
She loves her world, it's all she knows.
At lunch, she goes to buy rice and stew with the coin her grandmother gave her. "Don't give me meat," she says.
She'd rather have more rice.
Weekends are fun. See, on weekends she gets to cook with her grandmother,
she loves palmnut soup.
On weekends she gets to go to the farm with her grandmother
She loves her grandmother.
The farm is far, far, far away, hours from home, but they make the trek.
Nature is wonderful, she catches grasshoppers and helps to sow seeds in the land they tilled the week before.
Now it's lunch time, she roasts some yam on an open fire and goes to drink water from a stream
It's a beautiful life.
Or is it?
A storm breaks out, it's time to head home.
Grandmother and granddaughter, each with a stack of firewood on her head,
One in front of the other, leading the way home,
Far, far, far away.
The wind is getting stronger, it's serious now.
The rain pelts down, drenching grandmother and the little girl.
A large tree falls down, it was a close call.
It's not so beautiful any more.

Fast Forward

They get home safely,
only to discover that the rain invited itself in.
Everything is ruined, soaking wet. The entire house is flooded.
Oh no.
As neighbours gather to lend helping hands,
Grandmother takes her little girl by the hand and walks her to their neighbour's house.
She says, "you're sleeping here till this is all sorted out."
Little girl nods.
That first night she sleeps on the floor with one other girl and three boys, the neighbour's children.
It is certainly not the Ritz, but it's dry. And warm.
It's been a long day and she's tired; she's nodding off.
But he won't let her, that boy. The oldest son,
He won't let her sleep.
He pulls her close and pulls up her dress.
She's confused, why is he doing this to her?
She tries to get up, he pulls her back down.
She's 5 years old, she's scared. Terrified.
Are the others dead? No one seems to be waking up.
Why aren't they waking up?
He pushes her panties down, she tries to stop him.
He pushes them down anyway,
And then....
And then he ruins her.
With his finger, he ruins her.
Hurts her.
She's not a little girl any more.
Something has died.
He killed it.
Murderer.

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