--Women Of Substance

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?”

“18. You?”

“I don’t feel like telling.”

“But I answered you, isn’t it fair that you give me an answer?”

“I just don’t feel like giving one.”

Turning to face him, I caught a glimpse of a smile forming on his lips, he must have thought me to be stupid.

“Take a look at the river.”

And I did turn to see,

“There, close to those palm trees, parents would bring their new born children to come visit Uhammiri. They would go there, kneel and ask that she bless them, and thank her for making their homes fertile. Filled with love, laughter, and children. And there also the childless women, abandoned in most cases by their husbands, would come visit, weeping, begging Uhammiri to bless their wombs. To give them children, sons most importantly, and sometimes, daughters. To give them hope, and they would promise whatever they could, sacrifice themselves even, in some cases, promise to bring their children back to the water, to one day serve Uhammiri. And Uhammiri, angered by them, by how much they grovelled, by how much pain and wretchedness they felt, would bring them to serve her. Would visit them and give them titles, give them wealth. She thought that women ought to have pride, that they ought to not hate themselves because of some stupid men. She thought that they ought to love themselves, and those whom Uhammiri called, a lot of the time, were childless, yet within their homes, drowned in wealth. She loved to raise women of substance, she still does. But in rare cases she would bless their homes with children, and those who swore before Uhammiri always kept their promises because, she wasn’t lenient, she always struck with a vengeance all those who disregarded their oaths to her. And everyone would know it was Uhammiri, because, she never left room for doubt.”