The Warrior.
By bortuber
The warrior has a well-kept house with two rooms. You will not miss to see a dove or two flying around in the homestead. They seem to love it here because they are offered food whenever they fly over. She has four children, all of whom are grown and are married or have married. She and her husband stay alone. The walls in her living room are filled with pictures of Jesus and lambs. There’s also one sign picture that reads ‘A family that prays together stays together’. We had one too back at home. Every homestead I knew growing up had one. It was a requirement of sorts back then I suppose.
I know every corner of her house like the back of my hand because this is the umpteenth time I am here. The warrior and I have become friends over time. So much that I don’t have to call her anymore whenever I go to her place. She even asked me to stop bringing her sugar as a way of paying homage. But I was raised well, so I never have to listen to her.
“How is my favorite client doing?” she says when she comes into the living room where I’m seated and feeling at home.
“I could be better.”
ALSO READ: I’ll mourn you.
“You’re going to be just fine. Can I see your back? Did the ointment I gave you do away with the marks?”
I decide to let her see for herself what had happened the previous night. So, I turn my back towards her and gently raise my chiffon top for her to examine my marks. She exclaims when she sees the fresh ones.
“Woi… Does this man know that you are someone’s child?”
I can feel the anger in her voice. She touches the marks and I squint while making those funny ‘hsh shh’ sounds people make when they have a hot potato in their mouths.
“Please don’t touch them, I’m still in great pain. Those were from last night.”
“What was he mad about this time?”
“Who knows really? He came back home drunk and began complaining about petty things. Like why he did not have enough soup on his plate. His anger kept snowballing, but I really did not think he would bring his whip and work on my back the way he did.”
“Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger will always find a woman. But we have to be subservient and behave like fools. Just so the storm can pass fast.”
“I don’t wish to persevere anymore. As we pray today, pray for my endeavors. And for the ground that my legs will step on. I want to flee, dear friend. I am tired of being subservient and tired of persevering. This man will kill me. I called my mother yesterday and told her about everything. I had been trying to hide it all because I wanted to save face. She asked me to go back to her. Her exact words were that she still wants me in her life. I cried so much because I seem to have forgotten what it feels like to be wanted by someone. I am going back home.”
She then goes into a trance. Like she always does when having visions. Her eyes are abnormally bigger during the episode and there’s a great frown on her lips. Then she reaches out for my arms and begins speaking in tongues. I close my eyes and try as much as I can to reach out to my faith. It has grown weak. Which should explain why I kept the warrior close by. She fights battles I can’t fight for me. When she is done praying, we both say amen. I am not quite sure to what exactly I just said amen, but I know the warrior wishes me well.
“I know they call me the warrior, but you, Jane are the warrior here,” she says to me. “You have been strong enough. But see, maybe that homestead wasn’t meant to be yours. Go home and go well. However, this is a point where you need to learn how to fight the battle alone. Leading a single life after marriage won’t be easy. Strengthen your faith and pray more. When you find time, come back and we will pray together to supplement your prayers.”
“I hear you. And thank you.”
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PS:This week’s post was done by anonymous.Happy new month!
We should really forego perseverance in marriages and embrace the courage to leave.
Nice piece Bor.