Mia Couto - Confession of the Lioness

I’m mad, she thought, while she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. But when she felt the claw tear her neck, Hanifa screamed so loudly that, for a moment, she didn’t know whether it was out of pain or pleasure. My father came to help her, unaware of what was happening. His wife crossed the threshold in the opposite direction and Genito was unable to stop her, in her frenzied haste, from bursting out into the yard.

If she had been mistress of her will, our mother would have escaped in endless flight. But Kulumani was a closed place, surrounded by geography and atrophied by fear. Hanifa Assulua came to a halt at the entrance to the yard, next to the hedge of thorns that protected us from the bush. Raising her hands to her head, she brought them down over her face as if she were wiping away a cobweb:

I’ve destroyed this place! I’ve destroyed Kulumani!

This is what the village would say: that Genito Serafim Mpepe’s wife hadn’t waited for the ground to grow cold. Sex on a day of mourning, when the village was still fired up: There was no worse contamination. By making love on that day — and even worse by making love to herself — Hanifa Assulua had offended all our ancestors.

Returning to her resting place, my poor mother bore the burden of night, floating between slumber and wakefulness. When early morning came, she heard Genito Mpepe’s sleepy steps.

Are you getting up early, husband?

Every morning, our mother would be up before sunrise: She’d collect firewood, light the stove, prepare food, work the allotment, dig over the earth — all this she did by herself. Now, for no apparent reason, was her husband sharing the burden of her reality?

I have some news , Genito Mpepe announced solemnly.

News? You know, ntwangu : In Kulumani, the only news we get is when an owl hoots.

People are coming. People from outside.

People? Real people?

They’re coming from the capital.

My mother remained silent, coming to terms with her astonishment. Her husband was making it up. No news or strangers had turned up there for centuries …

How long have you known this piece of news?

Some days.

You know it’s a sin.

What?

It’s dangerous to know what’s going on, it’s a sin to spread news. Do you think God will forgive us?

Without waiting for an answer, Hanifa waved her arms about, as if she were warding off ghosts, entangling herself in the foliage that framed her. She raised her hand to her shoulder, and felt the flow of blood.

What’s this, ntwangu ? Who scratched me?

No one. The thorns, it was the acacia thorns. I’ve got to cut that tree back.

It wasn’t the tree. Someone scratched me. Look at my shoulder: There are fingernail marks, someone clawed me.

And they argued. But both were right. In the village, even the plants have claws. In Kulumani, all living things are trained to bite. Birds devour the sky, branches rip the clouds, rain bites the earth, the dead use their teeth to reap revenge on their fate. Hanifa gazed at the forest aghast. Her face wore the expression of an alarmed gazelle.

There’s someone out there in the dark, ntwangu.

Calm down, woman.

There’s someone listening to us. Let’s go back inside.

The first light of day was beginning to dawn: It wouldn’t be long before one could move around the house without the help of a lamp. On top of the cupboard, the oil lamp was still flickering. Suddenly Hanifa once again had that pleasant feeling that the kitchen had its own moon. As she hadn’t been favored by the sun, at least she could enjoy a moonlit ceiling. She gained confidence and thought about challenging her husband, declaring in a loud voice:

I don’t want any of your relatives here today. They’ll be rushing over here with their commiseration. Tomorrow, when I’m a widow, they’ll be in an even greater hurry to steal everything from me.

But she said nothing. She already considered herself a widow. All that was needed was for Genito Mpepe to accept his own absence.

Husband, are the ones who are coming real people?

Yes, they are.

Are you sure?

Certified authentic people, people born and bred. Among them, there’s a hunter.

The bucket she was carrying in her left hand fell to the ground, and water flowed all over the yard. The broom in Hanifa’s hand now became a sword to fight off demons.

A hunter? she asked in a whisper.

It’s him, it’s the one you’re thinking of: the mulatto hunter.

At first the woman stood there motionless. Then, suddenly, decisiveness seized her: She slipped into her sandals, covered her head with a scarf, and declared that she was leaving.

Where are you going, woman?

I don’t know, but I’m going to do what you never did. I’m going out onto the road, I’m going to ambush him, I’m going to kill that hunter. That man mustn’t get to Kulumani.

Don’t be crazy, woman. We need him, we need him to kill these damned lions.

Don’t you understand, ntwangu ? That man is going to take Mariamar away from me, he’s going to take my last daughter away to the city.

Would you prefer Mariamar to be killed by lions?

His wife didn’t answer. “Prefer” was not a verb that had been made for her. How can someone who has never learned to love have preferences?

If you don’t let me leave now, husband, I promise I’ll run away.

The man seized her by the wrists and pushed her up against the old cupboard, knocking over the lamp. Hanifa saw her little moon dissolving into blue flames across the kitchen floor.

I need to stop that mulatto. She sighed, vanquished.

At this point, I decided to intervene to defend my mother. When he saw me emerge from the shadows, my father’s fury was rekindled: He raised his arm, ready to impose his kingdom’s rule.

Are you going to hit me, Father?

He stared at me, perplexed: Whenever anger gets the better of me, my eyes flash intensely. Genito Mpepe looked down, unable to face me.

Do you know who summoned the hunter? I asked.

Everyone knows: It was the people from the project, the ones from the company , my father replied.

That’s a lie. It was the lions that summoned the hunter. And do you know who summoned the lions?

I’m not going to answer.

It was me. I’m the one who summoned the lions.

I’m going to tell you something, so listen carefully , my father declared angrily. Don’t look at me while I’m talking. Or have you lost all respect?

I looked down, just as the women of Kulumani do. And I became a daughter again while Genito regained the authority that had escaped him for some moments.

I want you to shut yourself away here when this hunter arrives. Do you hear?

Yes.

While these people are in Kulumani, you’re not to stick so much as your nose outside.

Silence descended on the room once more. My mother and I sat down on the floor as if it were the only place left in the world. I patted her shoulder in an attempt to show comfort. She avoided me. In an instant, the order of the universe had been reestablished: we women on the ground; our father pacing up and down, in and out of the kitchen, displaying his mastery of the house. Once more, we were governed by those laws that neither God teaches nor Man explains. Suddenly Genito Mpepe stopped in the middle of the house and, opening his arms, declared: