Nnedi Okorafor - Who Fears Death

“I’ll meet you at home,” I told them.

“Go ahead,” my mother said, softly patting my cheek.

I had to work hard to get out of the square. I hated crowded places. I’d just emerged from the crowd when I spotted Mwita. He’d seen me first.

“Hi,” I said.

“Good evening, Onyesonwu,” he said.

And just like that the connection was made. We’d been friends, fighting, learning, laughing with each other, but in this moment, we realized we were in love. The realization was like flipping the power on. But my anger with him hadn’t left me. I shifted from one foot to the other, mildly caring that a few people were looking at us. I started walking home and was relieved when he walked with me.

“How have you been?” he asked tentatively.

“How could you do that?” I asked.

“I told you not to go.”

“Just because you tell me to do something doesn’t mean I’ll listen!”

“I should have made it so that you couldn’t pass his cactuses,” he mumbled.

“I’d have found a way through,” I said. “It was my choice and you should have respected it. Instead you stood there telling Aro how it wasn’t your fault that I’d come, trying to cover your own backside. I could have killed you.”

“Precisely why he won’t teach you! You act like a woman. You run on emotions. You’re dangerous.”

I had to work not to further prove Mwita’s point. “You believe that?” I asked.

He looked away.

I wiped a tear from my eye, “Then we can’t be…”

“No, I don’t believe that,” Mwita said. “You’re irrational at times, more irrational than any woman or man. But it’s not because of what’s between your legs.” He smiled and sarcastically said, “Besides, haven’t you gone through your Eleventh Rite? Even the Nuru know that going through it will align a woman’s intelligence with her emotions.”

“I’m not joking,” I said.

“You’re different. Your passion is more than most,” he said after a brief pause.

“Then why…”

“Aro needed to know that you came on your own volition. People who are driven by others… trust me, he’ll never accept them. Come, we need to talk.”

Once at my house, we sat on the back steps in front of my mother’s garden.

“Does my papa know who Aro really is?”

“To an extent,” he said. “Enough people know of him, those who want to know.”

“Just not most.”

“Right.”

“Mostly men, I assume,” I said.

“And some older boys.”

“He teaches others, doesn’t he?” I said, annoyed. “Other than you.”

“He tries. There’s a test you have to pass to learn the Mystic Points. You can only take it once. Failure is awful. The closer you get to passing, the more painful it is. The boys you overheard, they’d been tried. They all return home bruised and beaten. Their fathers think they’ve passed initiation as Aro’s apprentice. In reality, they’ve failed. Aro teaches the boys some small things so the boys have skill at something.”

“What are the Mystic Points anyway?”

He moved closer to me, close enough that I could hear his soft whisper. “I don’t know.” He smiled. “I know that one must be destined to learn them. Someone must ask for it to be so, for you to BE so.”

“Mwita, I have to learn them,” I said. “It’s my father! I don’t know how I…”

And that was when he leaned forward and kissed me. I forgot about my biological father. I forgot about the desert. I forgot about all my questions. It wasn’t an innocent kiss. It was deep and wet. I was almost fourteen, he was maybe seventeen. We’d both lost our innocence years ago. I didn’t think of my mother and the man who raped her as I always thought I would if I were ever intimate with a boy.

There was no hesitation in his hands working their way inside my shirt. I didn’t stop him kneading my breasts. He didn’t stop me from kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt. I ached between my legs, a sharp desperate ache. So sharp that my body jumped. Mwita pulled away. He quickly stood up. “I’ll go,” he said.

“No!” I said getting up. The pain was spreading all over my body now and I couldn’t quite straighten myself.

“If I don’t leave…” He reached forward and touched my belly chain that had come out as he’d fumbled with my top. Aro’s words flew through my head. “That is for your husband to see,” he’d said. I shivered. Mwita reached into his mouth and handed me my diamond. I smiled weakly as I took it and put it back under my tongue.

“I’ve unknowingly betrothed myself to you,” I said.

“Who believes that myth?” he asked. “Too easy. I’ll come see you in two days.”

“Mwita,” I breathed.

“It’s best that you remain untouched… for now.”

I sighed.

“Your parents will be home soon,” he said. He lifted my shirt up and tenderly kissed my nipple. I shivered, the pain between my legs flaring. I squeezed them together. He looked at me, sadly, his hand still cupping my breast.

“It hurts,” he said apologetically.

I nodded, my lips pressed together. It hurt so badly that areas of my vision were going dark. Tears ran down my face.

“You’ll recover in a few minutes. I wish I had known you before you had it done,” he said. “The scalpel that they use is treated by Aro. There’s juju on it that makes it so that a woman feels pain whenever she is too aroused… until she’s married.”

After he left, I went to my room and wept. It was all I could do to curb my fury. Now I understood why a scalpel was used instead of a laserknife. A scalpel, simpler in design, was much easier to bewitch. Aro. It was always Aro. For most of the night, I considered the many ways I could hurt that man.

I considered ripping the gold chain from my waist and spitting the stone in the garbage, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Somewhere along the way, these two items had become part of my identity. I’d have felt so ashamed without them. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I was too angry at Aro and too afraid of another visit from my biological father in my sleep.

The next night, I slept only out of pure exhaustion. Thankfully, there was no red eye. By the time I met up with Binta and Diti after school the next day, I felt a little better.

“You know that photographer? I heard all his nails had fallen off,” Diti said, playfully rolling her diamond in her mouth as she spoke.

“So?” I said, leaning against the school wall.

“So that’s disgusting!” Binta snapped. “What kind of man is that?”

“Where’s Luyu?” I asked, changing the subject.

Diti giggled. “She’s probably with Kasie. Or Gwan.”

“I swear, Luyu will fetch the highest bride price,” Binta said.

Had any of these boys tried to touch Luyu? “What of Calculus?” I asked.

Calculus was Luyu’s favorite. He was also the boy who scored highest in math class. All three of my friends had several suitors, Luyu having the most, then Diti. Binta refused to talk to any of hers. We were still chatting when Luyu came around the corner. There were dark circles under her eyes and she walked bent forward.

“Luyu!” Diti screamed. “What happened?!”

Binta started crying, grabbing Luyu’s hand.

“Sit her down!” I shouted. Luyu’s hands shook as they made and unmade fists. Then her face squeezed and she shrieked in pain.

“I’ll go get someone,” Binta said jumping up.

“No!” Luyu managed to say. “Don’t!”

“What happened?” I said.

The three of us crouched around her. Luyu stared at me with wide hollow eyes. “You… you might know,” she said to me. “Something’s wrong with me. I think I’m cursed.”