The Day After that Day

THE DAY BEFORE THAT DAY.

The day before that day was the day I had wandered deeper into the bush to answer the call of nature.  I bent securely where I could safely pull my short away from the eyes of men.  The shrubs were protective, tall enough to cover me so that no one knows I'm there, short enough to allow me see what's happening around me. I'd settled into a squatting position eyeing the leaves I'll use as toilet paper as the custom of we village boys were. 

It was the day my eyes beheld what my mouth will not find words to say out. I'd heard footsteps and mooing, shrugged it off and concentrated instead on pulling the ears of the leaves of a shrub in front of me as I released waste, spewing saliva and laughing silently at the sound flies made hovering over my excreta, some getting stuck on it as they fought to take the greatest chunk for their meal.  I'd made to stand to pull the leaves of the achara by me to wipe myself clean when I saw it.

A cow, with tail held firmly to its back, by a black hand covered with a short sleeve shirt of dirty brown and green that once shone in its glory.  The cow sat mooing, and right at the buttocks was a penis. Long and black, thick. You will think it belongs to a horse, but it belong to a man. The herder. The man who held the tail against the cows back and swung in and out vehemently, with his leg shaking with each thrust.  The evil my eyes beheld was too much I couldn't move, it froze me. Confined me to a spot. I couldn't talk my tongue was tied.  That day I watched a man get satisfied by an animal.  I watched as he pulled out and in, drawing in the process green particles of dung.  That day I'd felt headache ceased my brain.  My eyes went blurred and I never knew when I screamed, for I watched the man wriggle lying on the back of this cow, I saw him shake, I saw him discharge into the cow.  The realization of seeing a man mount an animal had made me lose control of my mouth, I'd screamed before I could tell myself it wasn't safe to. 

It was the day I first saw atrocity.  The day I can't explain like I said. The man heard my scream and advanced towards me. It was the day I laid on my poo and the stench couldn't deter me for I was in danger. It was the day I found energy surging through my leg so strongly I fled without stopping until I was secured in my room.  All I could say was my ears saw my eyes.  The others were gibberish so I can't remember. 

It was the day before I left the village to a nearby town to get treatment.  The day I opened my eyes and found out I shared room with mentally insane people. My eyes had beheld a thing so abominable I fell out of sanity.  It was the day before I got the news that Fulani herdsmen attacked my village,  the day in which they killed mama, killed my sister, and two hundred others. 

The day in which tears had mixed with pain burning my cheek as it flowed down.  The day.... The day..... The day.....

©
CHINES ZOE.