Wednesday 18 December 2013

Mercy part 3



part 3


She was just lying there. Consumed by a pool of her own blood – at least I think it was her own blood. It sprawled all around her small body like someone had just poured a pot of paint around her, except it was not that neat. It was splattered around her with some of it lingering around her lips.

I covered my lips in horror as I tried desperately to hold back the screams that were threatening to escape my mouth once more. Aunt Gege was holding me firmly warning me to shut the hell up. I looked down at the floor again. The girl had chewed her own hand and pieces of flesh were ripped but not torn off. The fear in her eyes  was eminent. As the big eyes met mine, they forced water out of my own in small spurts. Her body was gaunt exposing any part of her body that had bones or knuckles. She was clearly sick and kept coughing up more and more blood. All this seemed  to happen in a short space of time.

The cleaning lady brushed past us nonchalantly with a bucket of water and soap dancing swiftly in her hand. It seemed the sight of so much blood did not bother her one bit. Aunty Gege’s hand pushed the air with her slightly folded fist ordering the other girls to go back to their rooms. They moved backwards into their rooms hoping to catch a last glimpse of what was going on. I seemed to be the only one who was allowed to stay a little longer. Perhaps because I was the new girl. I watched as the maid cleaned the skeleton on the floor.

‘This one is no longer profitable. Get rid of her.’ Ba Aunty  ordered the maid. She did not argue but carried on working. Tears carried on their downwards journey on my face. The water in the bucket had quickly changed to red painting the once white cloth in the maids hands, a dull brown. ‘What a waste of money. We could have raked in $1000 dollars for this one.’ She kicks the girls leg gently to the side and grabs me by the elbow. The bar shuts behind us.

‘Sit down.’ She orders. ‘Why were you screaming like that? We do not do that here do you hear me?’ Her eyes flash a cold glazed icy look. It is as though there is no one in that body. It is like having a robot talk to you.

Her lips move inaudibly for what seems like eternity. I stare at her nodding my head every two minutes in orderly fashion. I appear to hear her but my mind is adamant it wants to stay with the girl on the floor. What were they going to do with her? What did the mean by getting rid of her? Was the maid not disgusted by the way the water smelled of metal and soap? A thick sting pastes my face forcing the bursts of tears to now fall freely.

‘Are you listening to me? If you act like you do not know what this is all about you will find yourself gone like her!’

‘Ba Aunty, I do not understand what you mean…’

‘Don’t you dare talk back at me. You and me is not size do you understand?’

‘Yes ma.’

‘Stupid girl. Do you want to kill yourself because some village idiot wants to bit off her own arm? Is life for you here so bad that you think eating hands is a good idea? Let me tell you something, I have done more for you and your family than you know!’

‘Aunty, I would really like to go home. I am sorry but I would like to go home to mummy.’

‘This is your home now. I have been very patient with you. If you keep talking about that foolishness I will have no choice but to ship you out. She is not even your mother. You are unwanted! Scrum like you do not have any mother in this world that would want to be stuck with you so shut up and deal with what you have. In fact be grateful you did not end up on Big John’s gutting table. I would have sworn that you had more sense than the rest of these. Get ready for your next client.’

She stormed out of the room the deafening silence my only companion. The questions unremittingly flood my thoughts. Sitting on my small bed in the corner of the room, I rest my head in my lap wishing that I could turn back the hands of time. Wishing that the argument with Grandma Nettie had not been so bad, wishing that I could see Mose again and wishing more than anything, that I could pray. I had heard of people praying. I had seen people being prayed for to get Satan out of their bodies. I had even watched as Amake Feki was prayed for when she was very sick that they thought she would surely die. People came from far places to see her. They put their hands on her head and shouted at the top of their voices to get the devil out of her. They wanted to shock him out of her system. Some shouted with their eyes closed that he did not belong there and some pointed with ferocity at her whilst speaking a language I had never heard before and others commanded him out by pushing her head back and forth. Amake Feki looked like a lot of water had been poured all over her body. She was sweating so much. I was not sure if this was the devil leaving or if it was just hot from all the people cramped in one small shack. The air was stale with a stiffness that could be cut with knife!

I had not learnt to pray like that. I was alone. I was alone because of my love for nyama. All I could do was wait for the next man and the next and never see how it helped Ba Aunty. For the first time, I wondered whether I cared about finding Tata or even my real mother. Perhaps if my real mother was around, my life would have been different. But she is not here. I am. i cried into my lap until I fell asleep.

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