Where I am from the sun shines brightly almost everyday. Its majestic rays are not just a beacon of hope for my people but a punishing scorch on our backs. Our lives are filled with depth however, from the multi-coloured beads we wear on our proud breasts to the many trinkets that caress our ankles. Shoes? What shoes? The cracks under my feet are a map of my travels, each line a tale a thousand words couldn't tell. But in the proud sway of my hips and the fullness of my lips you wouldnt guess my suffering.
The water in the town well has dried up, and the closest source of water is a few miles off. The women and I will travel for it is our duty, proud bearers of children we are truly the adhesive that binds our world together. So we will pick up our buckets and such and we will sing tales of warriors past and in unison our feet will tell tales. Our husbands will bid us goodbye and we will bow to their feet as custom expects, knowing that at night time, it is always us that has the upper hand.The younger girls stay and watch our babies. The journey is tiresome but we will prevail. Animals lurk in the bushes tongues dribbling as they smell us approach, but as always we will prevail.
The conversation will flow and Adama will probably tell us for the hundreth time how large her husband's manhood is, we will all wink knowingly to each other, not because we think it isnt so, but because we know it isnt so. We approach the river cautiously and when we do get there and move as quietly as we can because we know the tales our grandfathers have told us about the people who never returned. We hear a rustle and like the goddesses that watch over us we are still. The pregnant amongst us curse under their breath to the gods, we do not blame them, their swollen feet provokes disrespect.When the rustling ceases we inch closer and fill our buckets and such with the creator's natural drink. We smile to each other because our hunter husbands will finally wash and we will no longer be tormented by their smells. Our children will feel the coolenss of water on their tongues. I fill my very large basin to the brim and my sister helps me place it on my head. Even under the strain, my neck is proud and i stare defiantly at the sun.
We start to make our way back and once we are past the deadly bushes the chatter begins again. Adama begins to tell us about her husband once moreand we all laugh. It is a proud laughter because we know we are the adhesive that binds our world together. Where I am from, the sun shines brightly and although its rays are not always a beacon of hope for me people it is the one sign that our futures may not be so bleak.
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