Scene: Grandma Shada’s hut, near Awassa, at the edge of the Sahara, in the shadows of the Bale Mountains. Tightly drawn and bent boughs to keep out the bugs and the occasional rains, floors covered in woven mats. Two young girls, under their cover, are talking about tomorrow’s festival.
HIBA: Let’s run away
AKIFA: Be quiet. Shada will hear you outside
HIBA: We have to run away. I have to run away.
AKIFA: Shhh
HIBA: Why do they do this to us?
AKIFA: I told you. It makes us pure
HIBA: Why aren’t we pure?
AKIFA: I don’t know. Be quiet.
HIBA: I won’t let them tie me to that tree. I saw them cut Ameen. I am running away.
AKIFA: Be quiet. No man will want you if you aren’t closed. No man will pay father for you. Now hush.
HIBA: I can’t
AKIFA: It will be ok.
HIBA: Ameen doesn’t even play with us anymore. She just sits and stares at the tree all day.
AKIFA: I’m tired. Be quiet. Tomorrow their will be drums and dances and wonderful foods and treats. Don’t you remember how much fun it was last year? And we will be women.
HIBA: Yes, but last year we weren’t old enough to be tied to the tree.
Please, let’s run away.
AKIFA: Runaway? To where?
HIBA: To Aunt Yusa’s in Jaba.
AKIFA: Aunt Yusa was cut, too.
HIBA: But we heard mother tell Shada that she didn’t want us cut.
AKIFA: But mother isn’t here anymore.
HIBA: But Aunt Yusa and momma were twins. Like us. They think alike. Like we do.
AKIFA: I think I just want to go to sleep
HIBA: Please, sister, let’s run away.
AKIFA: It’s too dangerous. We can’t be alone on the road.
HIBA: I know what to do. Mother taught us. We know the prayers. We know our family history. I know how to do the move.
AKIFA: The move?
HIBA: The Qworeguys. If a stranger approaches you on the road, you say “Allah, be my witness, I have no conflict with you.” And if we can’t find a common ancestor, you do the move.
AKIFA: You think you could actually do the move to a grown man?
HIBA: Yes, we are small but quick. Run behind them, reach under their cloth, grab what is hanging and squeeze until they faint or vomit.
AKIFA: HIBA! Stop that. Be quiet.
HIBA: But mother taught us.
AKIFA: But Shada says a woman alone in the desert is like a piece of fat in the sun. All the animals will find you and devour you.
HIBA: If you come with me, I won’t be alone.
AKIFA: But if we are raped it will bring dishonor to our entire family.
HIBA: I know.
What is rape?
AKIFA: Being alone with a man, I think.
HIBA: I don’t ever want to be alone with a man.
AKIFA: Be quiet. Let’s pray in our heads and go to sleep.
HIBA: No, let’s run away. There’s bread cooling outside for tomorrow. Lets take it and go.
AKIFA: No. Grandma Shada said everything will be fine. She told me I am going first, since I was born first. I will be brave and show you.
HIBA: I can’t. I’m so scared. I’m leaving.
AKIFA: This is our tradition. We must be purified. The more we are closed, the more our husbands will love us. They will brag to others about our submission. And, we get gifts.
HIBA: I don’t want gifts. I don’t want cut.
AKIFA: Shada says if you don’t get cut, it keeps on growing. And when you are old it hangs down between your legs and sways back and forth when you walk. Then you will be like the Western women, who can’t control themselves and are alone with many men. They are going to hell. I don’t want to go to hell.
HIBA: Neither do I. but I don’t want to get cut. And I don’t care about gifts and sweets and dances.
AKIFA: Just pray, Hiba. Prayer is your strength. After tomorrow, we will be purified women. We will no longer be children.
HIBA: Maybe I will just sit and stare at the tree all day with Ameen,
AKIFA: No man will want Ameen. She will just be someone’s second or third wife. Remember that short, fat man that came through the village last year and bought two wives? Do you remember how badly he smelled? Do you remember how ugly he was? Is that the kind of man you want?
HIBA: No, but I…
AKIFA: SHHH! Shada is coming!
The flap of the hut is opened, and a woman holding a woven bag enters the room.
YALDA: Girls, wake up, lets go.
AKFIA: Shada, is it time? I don’t hear the drummers
YALDA: I’m not Shada. I’m your mother.
HIBA: But you are dead!
YALDA: No dears. I’m not. I fled from your father. I heard that the festival was soon, so I am taking you away. I have a bag full of bread. We must leave now and walk all night.
AKIFA: Where are we going? What about our ceremony?
YALDA: There will be two less girls crying under the tree tomorrow. We are going to Jaba. Yusa is waiting at the border. Let’s go…
lightsshad0w
TimOyler1.docx
0
