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sankalanka
270 Posts |
 Posted - 25 Mar 2009 : 12:25:42
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When Maimuna moved to the village from Banjul everything changed. Her parents bought a compound in the village and built a modest three bedroom mud house.
With her short mini skirts, her snake-like sexy eyes and bleached light skin, Maimuna was an instant attraction to the spellbound eyes of the young men in the village. With her carefree attitude and flare for the outrageous, Maimuna entered the sleepy village scene with a storm. She dazzled the young men with her flirtatious mannerisms, and she provocated the attention of the elder folks in her sleazy dresses as she walked past them on the Bantaba. Everybody was talking about her. It semed as if she had no care in the world. She brought to the village a level of sophistication previously unkown; she invited young men to gather in her house, while her mother was away at the Albert market where she had a stall selling foodstuff.
Maimuna's influence over the young virtuous village girls became infectious. They all started to gather around her. When the girls were not at home, they surely would be at Maimuna's place. Her place gradually became the meeting place for the young girls in the village. One after the other, she started to open the eyes of these young women. Maimuna introduced them to their first serious love relations. She also brought with her a coterie of flamboyant young men from the city, Banjul, who invaded this dusty village like locust on a corn field. Hardly would a bus come to the bus-stop, without one or a group of these men from Banjul descending, and heading to Maimuna's house.
It was at Maimuna's place that the trendy young men from the city started to date with the village girls. Soon the girls started to explore life outside the village. Before, the only activity they had outside the village was to go to the movies as a group. Now, they went with their new boyfriends to visit nightclubs and other night spots in the city. The village youths, the young men, were astounded with this new development. The night dances at the Mangoro house slowly but gradually became a thing of the past. The village girls shunned all invitations to grace such dances with their presence. The youths, the young men in the village, reluctantly became spectatots who watched as the girls they wrestled and kissed, and fondled in the village stream, engaged in steamy love affairs with other men from the city.
It was at Maimuna's place, and with her constant nudgings and encouragement, that Musukuta became enamored with this hamdsome young man with the dreadlocks. At first Musukuta was apprehensive to join the chorus of young women who flocked to Maimuna's compound. She kept her distance. However, the stories she heard and the things that went on over there that were recounted to her, became too much for her to miss. She too started to make the journey to Maimuna's compond. As the one who used to attract and influence the other girls in the village, Musukuta was surprised with the influence Maimuna had on her over a very short period. She looked up to her for advice and guidance.
*
Musukuta had a new love interest, the handsome young man with the dreadlocks she met at Maimuna's place. His name was Baboucarr but he was nicknamed Micky by his friends. Micky had a very easy disposition and a great sense of humor. He had an aura of respectability and charm manifested in his slow and calculated speech pattern. The first time Musukuta met him at Maimuna's place, Micky was engaged in a heated conversation with a friend about the political climate in the country. Musukuta was fascinated, not only with the depth of his political outlook, but also with the calm and seriousness of his import. She had absolutely no interest in politics, but as she sat there and threw one or two cursory glances at this handsome young man, something deep within her aroused her curiosity. She wanted to know more about him. When Micky left, Musukuta asked Maimuna to tell her more about him.
Micky's visits to the village became more frequent, and Maimuna would secretly sent someone to call Musukuta. Pretending that she had something urgent to do, Maimuna would abruptly leave the room. Micky and Musukuta would then be left alone in the room.
"You may not know it," Micky said to Maimuna, "But I had been falling in love with you since the first time I saw you here."
"That is interesting," Musukuta said, feigning innocence.
"I have talked to Maimuna about you. She has arranged for us to be alone together," Micky said.
"So Maimuna knew that you are interested in me?" Musukuta asked.
"Yes, she knew. I hope she was telling you good things about me," Mickey replied.
"You bet," Musukuta chimed in. "Now I understand why she talked so favorably about you. I made the mistake of asking her about you."
"What do you want to know about me?" Mickey asked. "I will tell you if you asked me."
"Not that I care, but why are you so passionate about politics?" Musukuta asked. "It intrigues me the other day when I watched you talked about politics with your friend."
"I definitely like politics," Mickey said. "I was a student activist in school. If you have a certain level of consciousnss, you just cannot avoid politics. It becomes part of you."
"I hate politics," Maimuna said. "It is dirty."
"Well, that is one thing that you have to appareciate about me," Mickey said. "If you should fall in love with me, you have to love my politics too. I am just kidding."
"I will think it again," Musukuta said. "Besides your politics, you come accross as a very pleasant gentlemman."
"Then don't keep me waiting for too long. I demand an answer now," Mickey said, smiling profusely.
Musukuta had very serious reservations about Mickey's political activties, especially now that she learnt that he was involved in an underground political movement. However, the feelings that she developed for him became stronger than the fears that she harbored. She therefore responded positively to his overtures. They became lovers. Mickey was sincere. Many a time, through their various outings together, Mickey had had the opportunity to take advantage of her, but strongly respected the culture that nurtured her to be a virgin, until the day that she was married. Despite the temptations, he resisted the urgings and made no demands on her.
Although outwardly he appeared as a radical, with the dreadlocks and ease in his bearing, Mickey exemplified some personality traits that brought out the best of his humanity. He was kind; he was respectful and was aversed to the culture of social injustice, political arrogance and sheer expolitation. His political orientation and ideological leanings were against the status quo, and the moral bankruptcy of the state apparatus of governance. His quiet demeanor belied the conviction and determined intent to which he committed his political and social ideals. Musukuta tried to understand the man she had fallen in love with. She was utterly confounded the day Mickey and some members of his underground movement, were rounded up and arrested over allegations of sedition against the state.
The allegations against Mickey and other members in his group couldn't be substantiated, and the charges brought against them were dropped. However, the government made sure that they were all unceremoniously terminated from their government jobs. The political environment in the country became more and more repressive. Some members of Mickey's group became the subjects of constant harrasment by the police. The group began to disintergrate, and one after the other the members started to exile themselves to Europe. Mickey too decided to exile himself to Europe, but not before he and Musukuta were married. Musukuta would later joined him in Europe. Mickey therefore sent a delegation of elders to Musukuta's family with cola-nuts, and to inform them of his intentions to marry their daughter. |
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kayjatta
2978 Posts |
Posted - 26 Mar 2009 : 07:34:30
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Wow, what a surprise twist! Great skills, I must say. At the start of the dialogue, it should read "You may not know it," Micky said to Musukuta, ... , (not Maimuna).
Is this a "clash of civilizations", the city versus the village? But seriously there is an evolutionary under current to this akin to the successs of adulescent chimps leaving their own troops in search of foreign mates.
I am amazed at Musukuta's quick evolution form someone whose love was inspired by Sengan's traditional village personality and outlook to that of Mickey's visionary/activist ideology, national and perhaps global outlook.
What has happened to poor Sengan? I can't wait for his reaction. I can't wait for Musu's father to come on stage also; he has by far been kept out of this, perhaps deliberately ... .
Good job Sankalanka, thanks again. |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 26 Mar 2009 : 12:31:26
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Kay, thanks for the correction. I am not doing any editing writing this, so please point out any errors. Secondly, as I write this I am changing and making additions to the original draft. I am even surprised myself with the insightful commentaries you have made with the story; you are as good in detecting the dynamics of this plot, as I am in creating it. So we are equals.
*
When Musukuta started to date with Mickey, Sengan watched resignedly as she was transformed from the sweet, innocent village girl that he knew, to this blossoming young woman who was always going to the city on weekends to party and socialize. Other than the fact that she might have overgrown their innocent, immature and youthful love relationship, Sengan saw no other reason why Musukuta should leave him for another man. He felt acutely betrayed. As Musukuta now deliberately avoided meeting with him, Sengan caught up with her one sultry afternoon, as she walked alone to Ma Binta's vegetable garden to take some food to her mother.
"I am told about the guy you are going out with," Sengan said to Musukuta. "What have I done to deserve this."
"You have done nothing wrong to me, Sengan," Musukuta replied. "It is just that this is different."
"I have seen how you have grown more matured now, and you are looking down on me," Sengan said.
"I am not looking down on you, Sengan," Musukuta replied. "Just as I said this is different. I hope you will forgive me."
"I cannot help it if you are turning away from me now," Sengan said. "I just have to warn you to be careful with this city boys."
"Thanks for letting me know, but Mickey is a nice man. I have been going out with him for sometime now, and he has not made any demands on me."
"Take it from me that he is betting his time. They are all the same. They came into our village and take all our girls, and the next thing you know our girls will start to get pregnant one after the other," Sengan hissed.
"What? You think we are fools?" Musukuta asked. "You think we will cheaply soil our pride because we are dating these men?"
"What do you want me to think?" Sengan retorted. "You are the ones dumping us for these outsiders."
"Are you still mad, Sengan?" Musukuta asked. "We will always be good friends. Trust me."
"I can't believe that you are leaving me for this guy," Sengan said. "You have changed, Musu."
"As I said, you have done nothing wrong to me. I love this guy. I hope you will get over it. We will always be good friends. I will always regard you as my brother,"Musukuta said.
"Well! It looks like you really love this guy," Sengan said, despondently. "Well! whenever you need me I am around."
Sengan started to walk away.
"I will remember," Musukuta replied. "I am sorry that I hurt your feelings. You know that I will always like you. But this is different. I am learning a lot from Mickey. I hope you understand."
When Sengan looked at Musukuta he could tell that her life was now different. She was full of energy and fun. Her face was beaming with happiness. Sengan jealously attributed the changes to Mickey. He could tell that he was sincere and love Musukuta. Mickey was much older than Sengan, and had a lucrative job as a bartender at the Sunwing hotel. He made very good tips. Sengan was not surprised when he heard that Mickey had sent a delegation of elders to take cola-nuts to Musukuta's family. He also heard the rumors that Pa Buruma, Musukuta's father, did not like the young gentleman. Pa Buruma had a negative impression of Mickey, especially with his dreadlocks, and had refused to entertain any talks of marrying his daughter to him. Ma Binta stood steadfastly on her daughter's side, and with the daily onslaughts on Pa Buruma's recalcitrance, her husband began to show signs of weakening his position.
Musukuta was standing by the village well, when she saw Sengan coming to meet her. At a throwing distance, the goats and sheep restless under the excruciating heat, cuddled under a rich canopy of trees. The tree leaves rustle and sent shivers of a chilling breeze.
"How are we doing?" Sengan greeted Musukuta. "I hope everything is well with you." Sengan searched into Musukuta's face and saw the worried look.
"No, Sengan, everything is not alright," Musukuta said. "My father doesn't want me to mary Mickey."
"I guess he wouldn't want me to marry you either," Sengan retorted. "A father should have pride that the hand of his daugther is being asked for in a marriage. Pa Buruma should get over the fact that you are his special and favorite daughter. He should let go and allow you to get married."
"He has a very strong bias against Mickey. He is also too judgmental. He doesn't like him. He is always trying to convince me to leave him," Musukuta said to Sengan.
"I think Mickey loves you," Sengan said. "I observe how he treats you with respect. Tell your old man to back off. You are very close to your father, and I am sure you can convince him to go along with the marriage proposal. Try to win him over."
"He is softening his position now," Musukuta said. "I hope a date will soon be picked for the marriage.'
"How about the wedding gifts?" Sengan asked. "I would demand a heavy price on your head. This shows you how much I care about you. I wish you the best Musu. I want you to be happy."
"Thank you, Sengan. I know you care about me. May be our paths were not meant to cross for me to marry you," Musukuta said, as she started to walk away.
*****
Musukuta was sitting on the bed in Ma Binta's living room surrounded by her friends and relatives. This was her wedding day. She looked radiant in an impeccable white outfit and wore a charming smile. Mickey had planned to travel to Europe on that day. He had made plans for her to join him later.
When Mickey made a joyful entry into the compound, surrounded with his entourage of friends who were also going to the airport to see him off, the compound was full of people. There was food and drinks in abundance, but much to the chagrin of some of Musukuta's relatives, she would not be taken to her husband's house that night. Mickey left for the airport later that evening. When he was leaving the compound with his entourage, a sudden sadness descended upon Musukuta. She stood in the middle of Ma Binta's living room and kissed her husband. Mickey had to find the strength and resolve to part with his newly wedded wife, so that he could make it to the airport on time. The marriage was not consummated that night.
As the evening drew to a close, and the festivity started to die down Musukuta thought about her husband. He was now airborned. She thought about the rituals that would have taken place before she was accompanied to her husband's house that night.
In an enclosed area in the compound, she would have been given a special bath. She would sit on a mortar that had been turned upside down. A basin of aromatic water would sit on her feet. She would then be cleansed and bathed, and dressed in an impeccable white garb. Her head would be dressed in a white head tie, covering her neck, chin and cheeks. In the middle of the compound a new mat of intricate designs had been spread. Musukuta would sit in the middle of the mat surrounded by the elders, her relatives, her bridemaids, her nighbors and her friends. Everyone would give advise to her. She would be instructed on the cultural norms and values that guided a healthy, fruitful and lengthy married life. She would be instructed on maintaining the moral standards that would make her marriage strong and enviable. Afer all the talking and prayers, a delegation would accompany her to her husband's house.
Amidst the fanfare, the drumming, dancing and singing, Musukuta would be at the center of the crowd her face covered with a wrapper. At the door to her husband's house, Musukuta would kneel down on her knees, and crawl behind an elderly woman into the house. The elderly woman should be a woman who had never left her husband's house in either a separation or a divorce. Musukuta's husband would be sitting on the wedding bed waiting for his wife. He too would be surrounded by his friends and chief attendant. They would all be dressed in white. As soon as Musukuta crawled closer to the bed, her husband would picked her up from the floor and together they would fall down on the bed.
Musukuta and her husband would sit in the middle of the bed, a calabash of white porridge with sour milk between them, as they competed as to who would be the first to put his or her hand into the calabash. If Musukuta's hand were to be in the calabash first, their first born child would be a girl. If her husband's hand were to be in the calabash first, their first born child would be a boy.
In the morning, her husband beaming with pride, would alert the elders that Musukuta indeed had been found to be a virgin. The drums would be sounded. The whole neighborhood would be alerted that the new bride of yesternight was found to be a maiden. The gifts would start to pour in; honor and pride would be bestowed on Musukuta. That was the day she had lived for. This was her day.
Now everything was going to be different. She would be meeting her husband without all the fanfare, the drumming and singing. Without all the pomp and parade. |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 27 Mar 2009 : 00:27:04
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Musukuta consumed herself in her work after the wedding. She worked at the Palm Grove hotel as a receptionist, shortly after she had completed her junior secondary education. After work, she stayed at home most of the time, and at other time she took a walk to Ma Binta's vegetable garden near the swampy rice fields. She helped her mother to water the plants.
In her quiet moments, Musukuta sometimes reminisced about their early days in the village, and about Maimuna. She was now an unqualified teacher posted in the provinces at Balanghar. When she came home for the summer holidays at the start of the rainy season, Musukuta noticed that she was now a much different person. She had changed considerably. She was calm and much restraint, and had married a school teacher from another village in the provinces. Most of the other girls in the village had also been married off.
The village became as serene as the low tidal waves that rocked the muddy shores of the village stream. The shouting and yelling, the exuberant voices in the stream drowned into the nostalgic memories of a youthful past.
As the days went by, and the weeks turned to months, Musukuta became concerned that it was taking too long to go and meet her husband in Europe. Anytime she raised the issue with Mickey in their telephone conversations, there was always an excuse for the delay. Ma Binta also became concerned, as her friends and relatives repeatedly inquired why it was taking so long for Musukuta to join her husband.
"Musu, I am so worried," Ma Binta told her daughter. "What does your husband say? When are you going to join him?"
Ma Binta stood akimbo at the door to the living room. Musukuta was sitting on the wooden cotton-cushioned armchair, and was busy trimming her fingernails. She looked up, and with a forlorn face, gave a deep sigh of resignation.
"Ma, Mickey is trying to settle down. I am his number one priority. It is just that things are not easy for him," Musukuta told her mother. Musukuta always found herself defending her husband whenever her mother raised the issue.
"It is not easy for you either," Ma Binta told her daughter. "You cannot sit here like this. I don't want to see you here everyday instead of being in your husband's house."
"Ma, may be this is not Mickey's own making," Musukuta said. "May be there is a force that is pulling us apart. I would not sin if I should name my sister-in-law who took opposition to Mickey marrying me. I am beginning to wonder."
"I am beginning to wonder about your father, too," Ma Binta said. "What with all that opaque water from the marabouts he has been giving you to take a bath with. He said it was to ward off evil. Since he dislikes your husband so much, who is the evil to ward off?"
Pa Buruma squatted on his mat in the middle of the compound under the Mango. He was counting his beads when his wife walked over to him.
"Ba, aren't you concerned that your daughter still cannot go to meet her husband," Ma Binta asked her husband.
"I always knew that he is not good," Pa Baruma said. "Your daughter was the one who wanted to marry him against my wishes. Now you telling me this." Pa Burama nodded knowingly.
"Don't tell me that you are the one who wants your daughter to stay here?" Ma Binta asked. "Aren't you concerned about what others are saying?"
"Why should I be concerned that my daughter is not going to meet that husband of hers?" Pa Baruma retorted. "I don't even want to talk about this."
Pa Burama neither denied nor admitted that he did something to prevent his daughter from travelling to join her husband. Musukuta became convinced that her father had something to do with it; her interest in the marriage began to wane. Her thoughts about Mickey became remote and distant. She was quickly falling out of love with him.
********
Musukuta was aggressively being wooed by one of her coworkers in the hotel. He was young, handsome, and with a skin the color of tanned hide left to dry in the sun. He was enormously popular with the girls. Pa Musa's appeal, his cute and attractive features, and his disarming smile was just plain irrestible. He had too many girlfriends, socialize and party a lot, and frequently occasioned most of the local bars and night clubs.
"Hey, Musu!" Pa Musa greeted Musukuta, as he walked past her reception desk. "What happen to your husband? Isn't he crazy to leave a beautiful woman like you here for this long? He better watch out."
"Pa Musa, you have to leave me alone. Why does that have to concern you except that you are nosy," Musukuta told him.
"You want to know why?" Pa Musa asked her. " I cannot take my mind off you, and secondly I can't understand why your husband leave you here for this long."
"That is none of your business, brother," Musukuta said. "You should worry about your many girlfriends."
"I am ready to leave all of them. And, listen to this: all because of you. You better believe that if I am you," Pa Musa said.
"I wouldn't loose a sleep over that," Musukuta scoffed. "I am waiting for the day."
Musukuta had rebuffed all Pa Musa's attempts to be close; too close for her comfort, inspite of his constant jokes and friendliness. Sometimes she appeared even mean and nasty to him.
"What is wrong with you today?" Pa Musa asked. "Don't tell me that you are not pleased to see me. I am mighty please to see you."
"What am I going to do with you? You never give up, hah. Well, what can I say?" Musukuta nodded her head, as if frustrated.
"Then try me," Pa Musa said. "I think I have more to offer. You will not be dissappointed."
"You loud mouth. What am I going to do with you?" Musukuta sneered at him.
Pa Musa was assertive in his bidding. He lavished Musukuta with gifts and presents. When Musukuta tried to decline his largasse, Pa Musa was offended.
"I insist," Pa Musa said. "This is just a token of our friendship. You are under no obligation."
"I don't feel comfortable accepting your gifts," Musukuta replied. "I don't want you to draw the wrong conclusions."
"Let me worry about that," Pa Musa said. "I am the one who would be taken for a fool."
As the days went by, and the weeks turned to months with no prospects of being united with her husband, Musukuta started to respond to Pa Musa's open flirtations. Moreso, when she noticed other women in the hotel flirting with him. She made up her mind quickly. |
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kaanibaa
United Kingdom
1169 Posts |
Posted - 27 Mar 2009 : 00:38:52
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| Sankalanka, the great one, you have not failed me at all. I am sure this story would make a fine book one day. Surely a hit and I just cannot wait to get it all done, perhaps though you might continue teasing us and even if you do come up with a book it would be in bits , a series, just like those mills and boons novels. I admire your skill and wish to encourage you . Please keep it up brother , I say that Gambia does have talent and you brother is one of them. Kayjatta you probably did write a book and the way you go analyzing or prompting makes me feel you too are one of those talents I mentioned above, thanks for your poem. I had to hibernate a bit due to a busy schedule ,coming awake I find the added bits so juicy. No dog heads to suck though , that is for the jattakunda hahahaha. |
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kayjatta
2978 Posts |
Posted - 27 Mar 2009 : 08:16:16
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The characterization is impressive. We are getting to know a little bit more and more about the people in the narrative. Sengan, who from the beginning would have been considered the main character appears to have been down graded. Perhaps Musu will be the protagonist in this story, but again there is so many moving parts of this story that we will have to wait a little bit longer ...
Sengan appears very gracious, it is commendable. Pa Buruma is the typical traditional father skeptical of her daughter's suitors, and often laying down a stiff resistance in the like of -"over my dead body"...Even though he succumbed to the pressures of his wife (Ma Binta), he has clearly taken the fight further into the spiritual world.... Ma-Binta is also in many ways a stereotypical mother, always in solidarity and empathy with her children (especially daughters)... .
We have seen the re-creation of the Babylon syndrome here, where all the dreams of Europes greener pastures turn into long and sometimes endless hopes and waiting which subsequently strains (distant) relationships.
The flexibility and perhaps the misgivings in Musu's character in many ways exemplifies the general misgivings of human character. By all indications Musu might end up yielding to Pa-Musa's relentless demands just like she fell flat for Mickey's petty politics and ideology, and just like Pa-Buruma succumbed to Ma-Binta's pressures to marry off their beloved daughter to what might be described a virtual stranger.
What would Pa-Musa mean for Musu? How far and complicated their relationship will go? Would a child(ren) be involved? Would Mickey finally and may be suddenly appear, or better yet would Musu eventually join Mickey in Europe?
Culture, culture, culture! The ceremony and rituals of marriage; the meaning and importance of chastity, the honor and the blessings of (successful) marriage are part of the rhythm of this society.
This is a great narrative; the suspense is building up and the author's deliberate twists of the plot helps keep the reader wanting to read more... . |
Edited by - kayjatta on 27 Mar 2009 08:31:01 |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 28 Mar 2009 : 01:42:04
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Kay, your commentaries are very good. I am beginning to think that you are a literature professor. Anyway, thank you.
Musukuta started to accept Pa Musa's requests to visit her at home. She also contemplated about seeking a divorce from Mickey, as her relationship with Pa Musa grew in intensity. She talked to her father about it. Pa Burama welcomed the idea given that he never liked Mickey in the first place. Ma Binta was opposed to the idea, and only gave in when she realized the awkward situation her daughter had found herself in.
"This is not want I want," Ma Binta confided to a close relative. "But what can I do? I cannot allow my daughter to be seeing another man while still married." She resigned herself to the new situation.
Musukuta started to send letters to Mickey requesting for a divorce. At first Mickey refused to grant her request, but Musukuta was persistent. When Mickey received numerous reports from his friends and relatives that Musukuta was seeing another man, he remorsefully agreed to grant her a divorce.
As soon as Musukuta's divorce was formalized, Pa Musa wasted no time in sending some elders with cola-nuts to Musukuta's parents, announcing his intention to marry her. The knot between Musukuta and Pa Musa was tied as expeditiously as possible. There was no fanfare; no wedding party. Musukuta's second marriage was low-keyed compared to the first one. Pa Musa travelled to the Dakar, Senegal with his new bride for their honeymoon. They stayed at the Terranga hotel.
Musukuta sat with her husband at the bar by the pool at the Terranga hotel, as she sparingly sipped her lemonade drink. Pa Musa swigged from a bottle of Heinekens beer. The night was gentle; the twinkling stars high above, brightened the Dakar skyline like a thousand pieces of beaming search lights. The city was now asleep. Only a handful of people sat at the bar by the pool. Early, under the sweltering sun, Musukuta and Pa Musa had sauntered through the teeming streets; through the hustling and bustling of life in Dakar on a shoping spree. They were glad to be back at the hotel, away from the cacophony of honking cars, the blasting of Ndaga music from shop windows, and the piercing cry of beggars for alms at the sidewalks.
"You remember," Musukuta said to Pa Musa, "You promised me that you are not going to drink alcohol again."
"That is true, Musu," Pa Musa agreed. "But this is a special occasion. It is our honeymoon. Besides, you know I am a social drinker. I drink only occasionally."
"You know that I still feel uncomfortable to see you drink," Musukuta said. "It is against my wishes that you are doing this."
Pa Musa was the complete opposite of Mickey, who never drank alcohol or smoked cigarettes. The difference in attitude and personality between the two men, was not lost to Musukuta who in her innermost reflections, wondered at times why she divorced with Mickey. She still found it difficult to reconcile with that decision. She thought about the gentleman who was her first serious lover. The man who trusted and married her, but never consummated the marriage, before they even had the chance to meet again. It must had been very painful for him, she thought, to have divorced his wife without first getting to know her in a conjugal relationship. She felt that she had betrayed him. Would Mickey ever forgive her?
"Musu, I know that you don't like me to drink," Pa Musa said to Musukuta. "Just pardon me for one more time. I promise. While we are here, why don't we talk about our plans for the future?"
"Certainly," Musukuta replied. "We might as well do that. What plans do you have for our future?"
"I was thinking of travelling to Europe or America once we settle down. You can join me later," Pa Musa said.
Musukuta was a little bit wary of Pa Musa's suggestion that he travelled first, and then later she joined him. She didn't want the same situation that happened with her marriage to Mickey to happen with this marriage also. Nonetheless, she decided to take another chance.
"At some point we have to break away from our hotel jobs," Musukuta told Pa Musa. "I heard that there are a lot of opportunities in America."
"There are indeed," Pa Musa agreed. "We have been out the whole day. I am beginning to feel tired now. How about you?"
"Well, I guess I am a little bit tired too," Musukuta said.
"It is time to go back to our room then," Pa Musa said. He had just completed his fourth bottle of Heinekens for the night.
That night, the moon and the stars radiated their brightness over their hotel window. The chirping of the birds high up in the trees nearby heralded the dawn to them. That night, for the second time that she was married, Musukuta had her first conjugal relationship. She discovered for the first time the joys of being a woman. That night, she was no longer a virgin. She had this strange feeling, this feeling that overwhelmed her whole body, that she was going to wake up in the morning to find out that she was pregnant. She could feel it deep inside her. She was going to be a mother. Musukuta and Pa Musa stayed in the hotel for three days and then returned to Banjul.
Musukuta was overjoyed when she found out that she was pregnant. Pa Musa was equally elated, and now assumed a more serious and responsible married life. After nine months, Musukuta gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. On the seventh day after the baby was born, the ceremony to give the baby a name was conducted.
The compound was crowded with Musukuta and Pa Musa's friends, their relatives, family members, neighbors and coworkers. Everybody had come to join in the celebration and prayer to welcome their child to this world. A sheep had been slaughtered at the same time that the child had been given a name.
"They have to bring the child out," Alhagie Omar said aloud. "We have to commence the ceremony."
Alhagie Omar was the most respected elder in the neighborhood. He was chosen to name the child. He was a devout and religious person.
Ma Binta's sister, Ma Fama brought the child outside for the first time after his birth. The child was swathed in a cocoon of rich, traditionally woven velvet wrapper. In the middle of the gathering outside, Ma Fama sat down on the mat. She stretched her legs out, and delicately placed the child on her lap. On her side was a bowl of water, a little bit of salt sprinkled inside; a bar of soap, a ball of cotton, a new razor blade and a plate of cola-nuts.
"We are about to give this child a name. That he will grow up to be a good human being; a believer in God and the prophets. That he will walk in the path of faith, the faith of his parents. That he will walk in the path of righteousnes, and follow all that the religion sanctioned. Let us pray," Alhagie Omar said. He opened his palms and prayed to God. Everybody else opened their palms and prayed to God. The prayer was repeated each time someone made a wish for the baby.
Alhagie Omar took a piece from the ball of cotton, dipped it into the bowl of water and slightly rubbed it on the bar of soap. He then proceeded very carefully to remove a little bit of hair from the four corners of the baby's head. From the forehead, the sides of the head and the back. The water sprinkled with salt used to remove the child's hair signified the change in life events that the child would go through. The name given to the child would then be announced.
"The child has been named Burama," Alhagie Omar announced. "He is named after Musukuta's father."
Alhagie Omar whispered a prayer and his well wishes into the child's right ear, and then the left ear.
"Let us pray for the parents of this child; that they will bring him up in the faith, and give him the right instructions and guidance," Alhagie Omar said. The gathering prayed.
Before everyone disperse, each would be given a small bag of doughnuts and some cola-nuts. Food and drinks would also be served.
Since Musukuta and Pa Musa's marriage was low-keyed, the birth of their first born child was celebrated with much gusto. There was drumming and dancing; a flurry of praise singers shouted at the top of their voices. They chanted the family honor and glorious heritage that marked the couple's noble ancestry. Money was given to the praise singers, left, right and center. Musukuta and Pa Musa exchanged laughs and winked smiles. They were happy and grateful to all those who came to grace the occasion of their child's naming ceremony.
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kaanibaa
United Kingdom
1169 Posts |
Posted - 28 Mar 2009 : 02:19:49
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| That was excellent and you just gave a good cover story of a naming ceremony.For some of our compatriots in the Diaspora that could surely be an open book of instructions on the ceremony. Good job and very good story,more exciting revelations but i guess we are yet to reach the climax, so wait for the next series with great expectations.I enjoyed the story wow! |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 29 Mar 2009 : 05:56:49
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Pa Musa left for America when little Burama was exactly one year old. He had a visa for both the United States and Great Britain. He first travelled to London where he stayed with a nephew for a period of three months. He found a job working in a restaurant in the east end of London as a waiter. However, he soon became disenchanted with the gloomy, and often-times endless rainy weather in London. He was also dismayed that he couldn't go out to socialize, and spent most of his off days sitting in front of the television. He felt bored. He told his nephew that he was moving to America.
"I think I have to move on," Pa Musa told his nephew. "I don't think I belong here. I am moving to America."
"Well, wherever you go it is what you make of the place," his nephew replied. "I have no problems living here. I love London."
"I forget that we never share the same taste. Whereas I liked the good life and good living, you were always moderate and economical in your choices. This place suits you well," Pa Musa said to his nephew.
"I guess I have a lot more peace of mind here. I don't do all the crazy things that you do. As long as I keep to myself and invite no trouble, I should be fine," his nephew replied.
Pa Musa boarded a British Airways flight from the Heathrow airport, three months after he came to London, to Boston's Logan airport. It was a humid London afternoon when he left for the States. After passing through immigration at the airport, and securing his luggage at the baggage claim area, Pa Musa exited the airport to the taxi stand outside. He gave one of the drivers the Brighton area address he was going to. He was to stay with a friend until he could be on his own. Pa Musa's friend had worked with him at the Palm Grove hotel years back and they had stayed in touch with each other. When Pa Musa called his friend from London, and told him that he was coming to America, his friend agreed to accommodate him temporarily.
Pa Musa was lucky. In a matter of days after he arrived in Boston, he found a job in a restaurant near the Boston college. With the little experience that he gained working at the London restaurant, Pa Musa was working in the kitchen as a cook. His hourly wage was more than what he expected. Within two months he was able to rent a one bedroom apartment. Things started to look good for him.
As the weeks went by, and Pa Musa saw his paycheck getting fatter and fatter because of the overtime, he started to frequent a local bar nearby. He also started to put more effort in his appearance, buying expensive sneakers and designer shirts. He visited the local nights clubs on a regular basis and was having a good time. He was back to his old, party-going, merry-making self. Although he called home regularly, and made sure that he sent money frequently to Musukuta, Pa Musa was also busy attending to his personal needs. He beacme conscious of the attention he generated because of his good looks, and had no shortages of woman admirers. He started to date Brianna, the young black American girl who was also working at the restaurant.
What started as a simple date, going to the cinema in the evening and on weekends to the club, slowly progressed into a fully blown love affair. Soon Pa Musa was no longer in a position to control the relationship. Brianna came to visit him anytime of the day or night that she pleased. She became insanely possessive, and would come to pick Pa Musa from work everyday if she was not working. As time went on, Brianna restricted most of Pa Musa's activties; he now seldom went to the bar. Brianna was fiercely in love, and she did show that to Pa Musa. She held nothing back in her desire to please and keep him. She had compassion for him, and would do anything to help him.
When he started to date with Brianna, Pa Musa never disclosed to her that he was married and had a son. Instead he kept it as a secret. When Brianna asked about the letters he was receiving from Musukuta, Pa Musa told her that Musukuta was his sister. One day, as they sat in the living room watching a movie, Brianna said to Pa Musa:
"I am going to bring in the rest of my clothes. I am moving in permanently."
"What?" Pa Musa stuttered. "You mean you want to come and live here?"
"What difference does it make?" Brianna asked. "I have most of my clothes here, anyway."
"It does make a lot of difference," Pa Musa said. " We just cannot live together."
"If you are concern that we are not married yet, honestly, I have no problem with that. You can marry me anytime that you are ready," Brianna replied.
Pa Musa was at a lost. Brianna meant every word that she had said. Should he tell Brianna the truth about his wife and son, and thus ended the relationship there and then? He felt that approach was callous, and thought he might just be able to wriggle himself out of this predicament. He therefore kept his mouth shut. He didn't have the courage to tell Brianna the truth. Brianna brought in the rest of her clothes and other stuff, and they shared the apartment together.
*********
Musukuta lived in a three-bedroom, self-contained house that Pa Musa rented after they were married. The house was surrounded with well manicured grass lawns, and well trimmed flowers. The house was also lavishly furnished, and Musukuta had two maids. One of the maids cleaned every nook and corner of the house each morning, and did the laundry. The other maid did the cooking for her. She had a watchman who looked after the compound at night, and in the morning took care of watering the lawn and flowers. Pa Musa bought a second hand Mercedez Benz 190, that Musukuta used to run her many errands, and also to ferry little Buruma to and from the nursery school.
Musukuta engaged herself in a lot of activities after Pa Musa left the country. She was a member of a Daira group, a religious organization that was formed by Alhagie Omar, that met twice weekly to share fellowship and listen to religious sermons and recitations. She was a member of a couple of other women societies, and also an active member of the Setsettal group. The Setsettal group organized weekly cleaning activties around the neighborhood. Musukuta kept herself constantly busy. She was running away from her loneliness; she was running away from all those thoughts of missing her husband that always assailed her. It was over a year now since her husband left, and although she lacked nothing and Pa Musa was sending money regularly, she still missed her husband a lot. The separation was becoming quite unbearable, and she agonized over spending all those nights alone in bed. Some of Pa Musa's friends expressed their sympathy for her, but she was surprised that were others who wanted to take advantage of her situation.
"What does the man say now? When are you going over?" A friend of Pa Musa asked Musukuta. "I know it must be hard for you. But whenever you need me I am around. If you don't mind we can go to a restaurant this saturday."
"Yow nah, you don't want to look at anybody else," another friend of Pa Musa told her. "It is only the man; you just want to look at your man."
Knowing that Pa Musa was away, the men were coming after Musukuta like vultures hovering over a rotten carcass. Some of the men he knew, but others were complete strangers. Her beauty, her grace and her elegance seemed to be the magnet that drew all these men to her.
One day, as she left the gas station, a man followed Musukuta to her compound. The man saw an incomplete structure in the compound; an unfinished building project that her landlord started on the other side of the compound. That gave the man the perfect excuse to enter the compound.
"I saw this house that you building and would like to rent it for my business partner," the man told Musukuta. "He will be arriving from Europe in a month's time. He is a European. I see that the house is not complete yet; no problem. I can complete it within a month."
"I am not the one building the house," Musukuta said to the man. "It is my landlord."
"It doesn't matter. I can build one for you. If you want I can even change the car that you drive. Tomorrow I can bring you the keys for a brand new car," the man told Musukuta. "I have done this in secret for many women. Even those that are married."
Musukuta was at a lost for words. Who was this man? She looked accross to the street, and parked in front of the gate of her compound, was a shiny, silver-colored brand new Pajero. The man noticed her seeming interest, and beaming he said:
"I can get you a similar one like that. I will bring the keys for you tomorrow."
"I am not interested in your offer," Musukuta calmly told the man. "I will tell the landlord about your proposal for his building. I will get an answer for you when you come back."
The man left and returned the next day with another brand new car. He had a briefcase stacked with newly printed banknotes. He entered the compound with his flowing Waramba.
"What did your landlord say?" the man asked Musukuta. "I have brought five thousand dalasis as a down payment for the rent. I will commence the completion of the building immdeiately."
"I haven't seen the landlord yet," Musukuta told him. "It was just yesterday that you came here."
"I can leave the money with you. No, you can take it," the man struggled with his word. "I just want you to be nice to be. I will take good care of you."
When Musukuta became aware of the man's hideen intentions, she was furious.
"Do you know me?" Musukuta asked the man angrily. "How then can you walk into my compound offering me the moon and stars, and insulting my intergrity by having the audacity to tell me this nonesense. Get out of my compound right now, and don't ever come here again." Musukuta chased the man out of the compound.
At the gym where she trained, another man followed Musukuta as she walked to her car.
"I noticed that you come here often. I also come here everytime to train. Do you realize that you are a very beautiful woman? I hope you are not married?" the man asked.
"Of course, I am married," Musukuta replied. "My husband is in America."
"Well, I wish you were not married. Anyway, if it is not a problem can you have dinner with me? You can give me your cell phone number. I will call you," the man said.
"I can give you my number," Musukuta told him. "I just cannot go out with you. I am a married woman."
When Pa Musa called her, Musukuta narrated all these incidents to him.
"You have to take me out of here," Musukuta told Pa Musa in their telephone conversation. "Everyone is trying to take advantage of me. Including your friends."
"This is why I feel so secured in our relationship," Pa Musa said to Musukuta. "I will always cherish your sincerity and faithfulness. That is one reason I don't worry with those men bothering you."
"Don't take advantage of that yourself, and just leave me here," Musukuta told Pa Musa. "Although you are providing me with everything, don't you understand that I missed you too. I am also human and I have feelings. I am trying my darnest to resist all these temptations."
Musukuta started to work on her own, when it became evident to her that Pa Musa was taking too long to take her to America. She talked to people who could help her.
"I have another ticket for a convention I am attending in Ghana. You can travel with me for this convention. The stamp that you have in your passport can help in your visa application," a bank executive, who was interested in a relationship with musukuta, told her.
"I can give you the money to go on a business trip to Dubai. You don't have to repay me after all your goods are sold," another of Musukuta's admirers offered.
When it became apparent to Musukuta that all these men wanted something from her, she relied on her own efforts. She applied for an American visa on her own and was lucky. She was granted a one year visa. She kept this as secret. She didn't even tell her husband. The person she told was only her mother. |
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 29 Mar 2009 : 17:45:17
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I took sometime this morning writing the concluding part of the first half of this story. When I tried to send it, I had a message that the server could not be accessed. Between going back and forth trying to send it, I lost everything I had written. I would have to start all over again.
Rene |
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Momodou
Denmark
11826 Posts |
Posted - 29 Mar 2009 : 18:58:14
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That was very unfortunate Rene. We have gone over to Daylight Saving Time (Summer time) last night and perhaps there has been a server update/shutdown due to the transition.
By the way, thank you for sharing with us, the story gets more and more exciting.
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A clear conscience fears no accusation - proverb from Sierra Leone |
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kayjatta
2978 Posts |
Posted - 30 Mar 2009 : 09:13:26
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Rene, I am far from being a prof. of literature. I am just an amateur literary critic.
Anyway, I like the descriptive skills you have shown in the way you have narrated the child naming ritual step-by-step. All the due cultural and religious significance of the "right of passage" is sufficiently addressed.
The dynamics of the setting-from the village and the city in the Gambia, through Dakar the capital of Senegal , to London and Boston (U.S.)-is also note-worthy.
I am impressed by your attempt at foreshadowing here in that we have been tipped about the event of Musukuta's pregenancy when the author stated that: "She had this strange feeling, this feeling that overwhelmed her whole body, that she was going to wake up in the morning to find out that she was pregnant. She could feel it deep inside her. She was going to be a mother. Musukuta and Pa Musa stayed in the hotel for three days and then returned to Banjul." This is a great technique to direct the expectations of the readers. However, the revealation of the actual pregnancy appears to have come too soon. Perhaps it would have been more effective if you delay the actual news of the pregnancy and leave the reader with that bit of suspense a little longer.
I think the theme is unmistakable-the story appears to be unfolding as a great moral lesson for the young men and women who continues to answer to the call of "Babylon" and all its trappings...
There are other lessons of human betrayal (when friends and "sugar daddies" would want to hit at your woman while you are away). It is very instructive that Musukuta eventually applied and obtained a visa to the U.S. by her own effort, instead of waiting for someone (even if a husband) to take her. This appears to be a breakaway from the traditional norm where the woman patiently waits for her hsuband sometimes at enormous costs to her and her family. From that perspective, I think Musu's action in that respect is a great lesson ...
Thanks Rene.
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sankalanka
270 Posts |
Posted - 30 Mar 2009 : 12:56:01
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Kay, I am just more than elated to be reading your commntaries. In the next segement, I will conclude the first half of this story. There is a second part that I am now developing. However, I am beginning to feel guilty that I am ending the first part in the middle of a suspense, when great interet has been shown in this story. I asked the readership to kindly give me time while I develop the second half. At this stage any number of scenarios could emerge for the second part; the readership can even engaged in their own fun exercise of determining how the overall story could end. The truth is I don't even know yet myself. I am trying to figure it out. This story was not planned ahead; it is basically developed around the character of Musukuta, whose story I knew and is quite familiar with. Thus a big challenge ahead for the second part.
Thanks Momodou, for the info regarding the failure to post previously.
************
Musukuta discreetly made her plans to travel to America. She bought from the South Africa airline office in Banjul two air tickets; one air ticket was for herself, and the other one for her son. She would fly to Kennedy airport in New York, and then she would board a Delta airline flight to Logan's airport in Boston. She was much excited about the prospects of Pa Musa seeing his son again. Little Burama was now two years old.
Musukuta had taken extra precautions for this journey. A well known Senegalese hair stylist in Serrekunda, had taken two days to braid her hair in the latest tiny, tiny braids that made her face look much younger. She had also lost a few pounds of weight with her intense physical training regime. She now looked much slimmer and ten years younger. She had an intricate headtie that rest exquisitely on her tiny braids, a grand African Mbuba, outfit, when she made her joyful entry into the US on a humid mid-afternoon in the summer.
It was on a friday, and shortly after the South Africa airplane landed at the Kennedy airport, Musukuta was again enroute aboard a Delta airline flight to Boston. She did not wait long for her connecting flight; it took less than two hours. Little Burama was sleeping. He had slept most of the journey from Dakar to New York.
Before the plane landed in Boston, Musukuta briefly thought about the consequences of her actions. What had she done? Here she was about to land in Boston with her son. She had left the Gambia to come and meet her husband, who had no idea, not even the faintest clue, that she was in the US. She had not seen her husband for two years, and the only things she had in her possession was his residence address and his telephone number. Also, this was her first time to travel to America. She knew nobody here except a cousin who lived in New York. She had the home address and phone number of her cousin in New York, safely tucked in her purse just in case.
Musukuta pulled her two suitcases by their strings in one hand, and she held the hand of little Buruma with the other. The suitcases were not heavy. She was travelling very, very lightly given that she was also travelling with a child. But in one of the suitcases she had all her valuable things. At the welcome lounge, a burly porter offered to help her with her luggage to the taxi stand outside.
Musukuta sat comfortably at the back of the old lincoln continental taxi, and held little Buruma to her chest. She gave the taxi driver the address for the Brighton area residence where Pa Musa was staying. All her thoughts were now consummed with her husband; what would be Pa Musa's initial reaction when she suddenly appeared before him. She had to prepare herself for the big surprise; the gasping look that would evidently contort her husband's face. She took little interest in the beautiful Boston landscape and scenery, and the expansive highways everywhere as the taxi sped by. She amusingly thought that she would appear to Pa Musa as a "wonka"; a kind of insect like a spider that was commonly found in the rainy season, but strangely appeared everywhere in the middle of the dry season.
"Here we are young woman," the taxi driver told Musukuta. "The house is that grey building to your right. You are a very beautiful woman. A very nice outfit. Where are you from?"
"Just arriving from the Gambia to meet my husband," Musukuta replied. She gave the taxi driver a big smile. The taxi driver helped Musukuta with her luggage into the building.
Musukuta stood in front of the door of the apartment, and hesitated for a while before she rang the bell. Nobody came to open the door. She rang the bell again much louder. May be Pa Musa was not at home, she thought. She would then have to sit against the door and waited until he comes home. While she was embroiled in her thoughts, the door of the apartment slowly opened. Instead of seeing her husband, Musukuta saw a beautiful, light-skinned, black American girl who tiredly stood at the door. Her black long hair supinely rested over her neck.
Brianna curiously looked at Musukuta and at her outfit, and then she looked at the child standing besides her. She took a furtive glance at the luggages, and then back at Musukuta again.
"What do you want?" Brianna asked, confused. She was wearing a transparent pink negligee loosely tied to her waist.
"It must be a mistake...," Musukuta started to babble. As she turned to walk away, holding little Burama's hand, a familiar face appeared at the door in boxer's shorts and a tee-shirt. Pa Musa's heart almost missed a beat. He gasped. Musukuta blinked her eyes in disbelief. She blinked her eyes again.
"This couldn't be him," she murmured under her breath. "This coudln't be him," she said very, very softly.
"What did you say?" Brianna asked, as she thorougly searched Musukuta's face. She then turned around to look at Pa Musa who was standing behind her. He had a puzzled look all over his face.
"What? Do you know this woman?" Brianna shouted at Pa Musa. She had an ugly grimaced all over her face.
"That dirty pig behind you is my husband," Musukuta quietly answered the question for her.
"That is a lie," Brianna started to scream. "What the f..k. You never told me that you have a wife."
"And a son too," Musukuta interjected.
"This woman will not stay here. You lousy son of a b..ch," Brianna shouted at Pa Musa. She shoved him forcefully back into the apartmnt.
"You can have him for all I cared," Musukuta started to say, as the door was rudely slammed on her face.
She heard the yelling and sreaming inside the apartment, as she pulled her son along and started to walk away from the building. The commotion inside the apartment was getting louder and louder. There appeared to be the shattering of glasses. Musukuta hurried to get farther, farther away from the scene unfolding in that apartment. She was lucky to pick up another taxi as soon as she reached the curb on the other side of the street.
"Take me to the train station," Musukuta told the taxi driver. As she sat at the back of the taxi, she consoled her son who was now crying very bitterly.
At the train station, Musukuta briefly left her luggage unattended, as she frantically tried to place a phone call to her cousin in New York. She informed her cousin that she was taking the train to come to New York. She was so distraught to explain to her cousin what had happened. When she went back to her luggage, one of the bags was missing. The bag that had all her valuable things.
Musukuta was desperately looking around for her bag. Nobody cared to help her look for the bag. Everybody was busy minding their own business. An elderly porter working at the station noticed how frantically she was looking around. He walked slowly over to her.
"What is it, ma'am? Did you loose something?" the elderly porter asked.
"My bag. It is my bag," Musukuta answered, sullenly. She began to sob quietly.
"In the station here you don't leave your luggage unattended," the elderly porter told Musukuta. "Go to the office over there and report the incident."
The End.
NB: This is the end of the first part. I am working on the second part. Thanks for the interest in this story.
Rene |
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kaanibaa
United Kingdom
1169 Posts |
Posted - 30 Mar 2009 : 20:54:01
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| This is a great story my friend , you simply have what it takes to be a good writer and you captivated my attention. This would be an unputdownable reading material for me. Thanks and do not keep me waiting for too long brother , keep it up. |
Edited by - kaanibaa on 03 Apr 2009 22:33:22 |
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kayjatta
2978 Posts |
Posted - 31 Mar 2009 : 09:09:46
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Okay in the last segment of this first part of the story, we have witnessed the departure of Musukuta to join her husband in the United States. This must have been a highly anticipated and exciting event not only for Musukuta but also her family and friends. However, the author (perhaps deliberately) left out the details of her departure from the Gambia and the preparations that led to it (such as any send off party, what were the feelings and reactions of her family, arrival at the Banjul International Airport, ...., .). This omission however could be a great opportunity for a flashback. The author can still go back in time an address that.
It is also apprent from the narrative that the author has assumed a third person narrative mode- but short of an omniscient third person narrator. This is because the author has exercised a limited knowledge of the characters in the narrative. The inner feelings and the background of the characters are not explored in detail. For example who really is Mickey? What is his family? What was his upbringing that made him such a gentleman? What are the details of his political convictions, what is his political vision? As an omniscient narrator, the author will perhaps have to get inside these characters heads and explore their deepest inner feelings-their aspirations, joys, as well as their fears. But perhaps this is not the kind of control the author wants to exercise.
As a third person narrator, the author has assumed certain risks because he is the communicator-he is the medium through whom the reader is being informed. Because of this the author as third person narrator in this case can have his dicta and point of view get in the way as in "...braid her hair in the latest tiny, tiny braids that made her face look much younger." It might be appropriate to use specific words like 'micro braids' if applicable in place of 'tiny, tiny braids' which are essentially correct but specificity matters in consideration of the readership. Also Musukuta's weight loss and its resultant anti-aging effect is potentially an explosive feminist issue. This is perhaps a risk associated with point of view that the author as third person narrator appears to assume.
This statement "...she would appear to Pa Musa as a "wonka"; a kind of insect like a spider that was commonly found in the rainy season, but strangely appeared everywhere in the middle of the dry season..." is potentially ambigous. Because spiders are not insects (they are arachnids with four pairs of legs instead of the insects with three pairs), wonka is either an insect that looks like spiders (which are not insects) or it is an insect just like spiders. The former is correct but the later is erroneous.
Having said all these, I think by suddenly appearing at her husband's residence in Boston without prior information, Musukuta took a huge risk that could jeopardize the well being of everyone involved as well as the wellbeing of her marriage. What did she hope to achieve by doing that? You know one of my sociology profs. years ago narrated a story of a man who was messing with his son's wife. Following a tip off the son started to investigate and secretly pay attention to the movement of the two suspects. One day his investigations led him into a room where he found the two in bed together. At that moment the shameless father looked at the son and said, "son you have just disgraced yourself"...
Thank you for the story and we eagerly wait for the next part. |
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