A stream of memories flowed into my throbbing head . Gold in my irises as I saw the
back of my beautiful , tall Mama . My open eyes flickered over the scenes unfolding in my mind .
Mama picking me up a er she ’ d plaited her fine , dark hair .
Mama spinning me around as I tried to bite her silver earrings .
Nani laughing as I accidentally dropped off Mama ’ s still-shaking hip .
Mama .
Suddenly a painful whiteness washed over my eyes . It was another memory . One I did not
want . I tried to shake my head .
It didn ’ t work .
I saw a shadow in the distance coming closer .
Puffy , bloodshot eyes .
The crickets stopped chirping as he undressed .
The protector .
*
She had thick outlines of kohl on Her eyes , Razor sharp flicks that framed Her gentle
eyes . Her lips were painted the shocking red that the nasty men in our community told us was
for whores and unmarriable women . She raised two fingers and to my delight smeared thick
mud down Her forehead . A blessing of mud , of nature , of the dirt we all become eventually .
“ They say , wear what is morally right .