Shackles

The jubilation and ecstasy that ate the thread and fabric of Koyo Village couldn’t be explained by mere words of mouth. Songs of joy and musical instruments were heard and echoed all through the land. Nkosi, a daughter of the soil was tying the nuptial knot to Mano; the only son of the richest and most famous business man of the whole region. In a very fancy and loud way, the two communities of Koyo and Nami gathered in joy to celebrate this union.

Nkosi was the perfect bride for Mano, but nine months into the marriage, it seemed like marrying her was the worst decision Mano and his family had ever made. She was yet to conceive. Different medicine men came from far and near to conduct series of spiritual tests and offered sacrifices at various junctions and farmlands for the opening up of her womb. All was abortive. Mano was only to take up his inheritance if and when he became a father. His wife, whom he loved and cherished so much wasn’t giving him that chance. Or so it appeared.

No herb seemed to be doing anything. Each medicine man came with chants and positivity on how soon she would be hearing the cry of a child in her home. After all was said, there was still no conception. Mano’s parents grew to hate Nkosi so much that they brought girls from other communities for their son to have as a second wife. He constantly refused. A day came, he had a serious fight with his parents concerning the issue. They blamed Nkosi for bewitching their son never to adhere to them. Mano’s mother wasn’t ready to have patience with Nkosi. Four times in a week she visited, each day came with different strategies to insult Nkosi of her barrenness. The pressure became unbearable after two years, Nkosi had to go to her parents for help. Her people; the people of Koyo, had a tradition on how to solve issues like this…

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Nkaya wasn’t ready to leave the love of her life. She had prayed all her life to get married to a man that worshiped her footsteps, just like the prince of faraway Jiba was to her. Her family was asking for the impossible. The royal family of Jiba; the people of her would-be husband were coming for her hand in marriage after the next full moon. How could this be happening to her? And why now of all times?

Three nights to the full moon, she journeyed to her sister’s marital home. She walked for 2 nights and a day, stopping to rest only at the fall of the sun. Her arrival there was few hours to the appearance of the full moon. The same full moon she was to be handed over to her sweetheart as his wife.

Nkosi was overjoyed to see her sister in her home. She knew her sister’s arrival wasn’t the regular family member visitation. After Nkosi’s last visitation to her father’s house, she left unsure of what the outcome of the family meeting was. She figured her sister had finally decided to make the sacrifice for her and the family as a whole. Nkosi was enveloped with unspeakable joy that night. Mano’s people won’t be taking all that was her family’s; as was the plight of any woman who couldn’t bear children. Her family had to implement their long-abandoned tradition. Fate had flipped the coin and it wasn’t to Nkaya’s favor.

She was there to help her sister’s husband be a father. She was going to give herself to a man completely different from the one she wanted. Against his wish, Mano took Nkaya that same night. The sun had risen and fallen twenty times before she noticed some physical changes in her body. She only became sure she had conceived when she didn’t see her monthly sign of purity. Nkaya was carrying a child for Mano; Nkosi’s husband.

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In the first trimester, Nkaya got all the pampering she didn’t get as a child. Her sister treated her so nicely, one could tell she wasn’t taking Nkaya’s sacrifice for granted. Nkosi would go all the way to the market specially to purchase expensive fabrics the baby would be clothed in. Mano always made sure the freshest of fruits were plucked for her. She wasn’t permitted to engage in any form of chores around the house. Nkaya was not the least dissatisfied. She almost forgot she had a life before this whole pregnancy saga. Sooner than they all expected, Nkaya was already approaching her second trimester. Her stomach was swelling fast. To them, it was a sign that the child was healthy and strong.

Mano gave her all the attention a husband would give his pregnant wife. He did so, as advised by his father. He cared for Nkaya so much that his attention to Nkosi wasn’t as high as the one Nkaya got. Mano loved his wife, but he also had great respect for his father. He just couldn’t let Nkaya feel lonely. Afterall, she was the one who had done all the sacrifices.

The spirit of jealousy slowly crept into the heart of Nkosi. She complained to Mano that she didn’t like the way she was sharing his attention. Mano couldn’t go against his father’s advice to treat Nkaya with all the care he could offer. Nkosi began to make mountains out of anthills. She would intentionally pick fights with her sister, just to piss her off. Nkosi’s jealousy grew so deep that to a level, she began wishing her sister would disappear from her marital home. She wished there was no such tradition that permitted this sort of thing. She wished her sister never existed. She had at some point wished the baby would die so her sister would have no reason to remain in her house.

The maltreatment she gave her own sister was so self -explanatory that she didn’t want her anywhere around. A day came, she called Nkaya to the space outside the house and begged for her to pack her belongings and leave. She pleaded so much that her tears became uncontrollable. One would think Nkaya would give in to her sister’s plea like she did before, but otherwise was her response. She refused to leave Mano’s house. How could she? She was carrying his child! What would be her plight? She would find it hard to find a husband of her own!

Nkaya wasn’t of the thought that she was sharing her sister’s husband. Mano had no other sexual relations with her after that night. But how could she just up and leave? She wasn’t going to do that. She was adamant. Her refusal to leave only added spice to the hatred Nkosi now had for her. Nkosi wanted to ensure there was no trace of her sister anymore. All her efforts weren’t productive.

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The ninth month came and Nkaya bore her son in the most comfortable and expensive delivery hut in the region, where the best midwives in the land were found. Mano’s heart was filled with overwhelming happiness as he heard the cry of a new born child echo from inside the hut. He already couldn’t wait to have his son in his hands. He was so sure it was a boy. He once said to his best friend, “I know what I put into her, and it’s a boy. I couldn’t have mistakenly put a female into her. I shot right.” Luckily, the midwife in charge for that night came few minutes later to inform mand congratulate him on the birth of his son. “Did you say son? I knew it!” Mano’s family celebrated in grand style, the heir to their wide expanse of business. They had prepared for the august occasion all through the period of Nkaya’s inception. There were noises, shouts and screams of joy that showed deep delight from the hearts of whoever heard the good news.

The following morning, after the baby was washed and dressed and made to lay beside his still unconscious mother, Mano walked into the hut with his wife. They were overjoyed to finally have a child. At that moment, Nkaya awoke. Her baby was handed over to her for breastfeeding, as he had already started crying so loud. It took only the nipple to make him keep quiet. After that, he sucked the milk out unapologetically, his eyes fixed to the smiling face of his beloved mother.

Nkaya had an expression of slight shock after looking at her baby for a few minutes. The two other people in the room didn’t notice that change in expression. Nkaya noticed something. What she saw on her child was as shocking as it was unbelievable. She kept looking directly into her baby’s eyes. Her eyes were fixated on him but her son didn’t fret because he had longed to drink from the breasts of his mother, nothing, not even her staring eyes could make him leave those breasts.

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“I can’t believe you would deceive me the way you did, I trusted you. I shared my home with you, and for nine months, I watched you share my husband’s care and attention with me!” the tears that flowed uncontrollably from Nkosi’s face was like the far away Ayaa stream water that gushed from the rocks. She couldn’t believe she was betrayed by her only sister. Nkaya was as shocked as she was. She couldn’t fathom how this was possible. As her sister threw tantrums and abusive words at her, she couldn’t hold back her tears too. The whole hut was filled with suspense. Mano was fixed on the bamboo chair that was positioned at a distance a little bit away from the bed. He couldn’t understand what he had just realized. He was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to think. “What will my father say? How about my mum? My people? My inheritance? My heir?” these are few of the thousands of thoughts that flew into Mano’s head at a time. Nkaya stared into the air as she struggled to explain to herself how this mess came about.

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It was a good morning, two weeks after the family meeting was held to discuss and come up with a conclusion on her sister’s case. It took Nkaya that long to make up her mind. How was she going to tell her sweetheart? She was still contemplating how to go about this new path her family was turning her life in the direction of. She thought of leaving without her beloved’s knowledge because she felt he would only search, not find her and in no time, forget she ever existed. She also wanted to tell him because she felt there was no way he would search for her and not get information from her people on her decision. She didn’t know which would be perfect to control the situation. She made up her mind after few hours to journey to his royal palace to give him the heartbreaking news.

They loved each other, they found it hard to get separated. But this was beyond anybody’s control. That day, they cried together at the same spot they shared their deepest secrets and words of affirmation; the olive tree in front of his royal hut. The tears were as full as the pain of separation was deep. They decided to make use of the last time they had together. They ate, laughed and played. Finally, she had to give him a parting gift; her purity. The love of her life took her that afternoon.

She left his place at night and two days later went to her sisters’. She had taken in for her love. The baby she bore was a spitting image of her sweetheart. She wasn’t the only one who noticed that her son Kima shared zero resemblance with Mano, Nkosi did too. It was only a matter of one week before they gathered boldness and confronted the issue. Kima was a result of the love she shared with her sweetheart the last time they met.

Mano had no heir. Nkaya didn’t know how to feel. She was glad as much as she could not believe that she had made a grave error. She was happy she had a gift from her love. They didn’t part ways after all, she thought to herself. Nkosi was still unable to bear children. She knew Mano’s family would sooner or later come with a new bride for their son. Her plan to remain and give him children even though she was barren had failed. She lost the fight. She felt betrayed by her sister, her people and her tradition. Few hours to the break of dawn the following day, she gathered her clothes and left her husband.