2. Elya was absolutely the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Rich dark chocolate skin, eyes
like diamonds…and when he moved he reminded me of…of…yes… a gazelle….strong and
deliberate. Mother and Grandmother went to the village to buy fabric to make my wedding
dress. They picked the perfect colors, white and purple….I was so happy. Father and the
elders took Elya to a secret place in the forest. It was the custom of my people for a young
man soon to wed, to have fellowship with the elders of the village for 7 days as a final
initiation before he took a wife. Right over there by the running creek is the place that Elya
and I would meet once a week.
I was not allowed to talk to him before the wedding…. but; we would meet at our secret
place and just stare into each other’s eyes. Once, I dreamed that Elya and I were married
and had 6 children….but the odd thing about the dream was each child had red tears in
their eyes. I remember the strange way grandmother looked at me when I told her about
the dream.
I can still recall the very moment life as I knew it changed. I didn’t know at the time, but
Elya had been amusing himself by watching me from a distance. He had returned from
Council and I imagine he knew I was going to be at our secret place. I remember him
calling my name and as I turned to see him………as I turned to look at him…
It’s all so confusing now…everything happened so fast…Suddenly there were 3 large men
holding him and binding his arms with rope and hitting him. He cried out to me “dowezun..
dowezun” which in our language means run….run….I was filled with terror and forgot
which part of my body I used to run…legs….arms….feet…nothing obeyed me…..I felt like
stone…I couldn’t talk…I couldn’t move…. And Elya kept screaming “dowezun…dowezun” I
remember being too frightened to look back at him….I just remember hearing a loud
thud….and Elya’s wail…and even louder loud silence…then he called me no more……
Some men surrounded me and I was snatched….I was taken and put on a large ship with
other Africans. We were shackled and stretched out side-by-side like the fish I used to see
on display at the village market. Confused and bewildered we endured a long journey on
the water sailing for what would seem like forever. I kept thinking that I was going to wake
up any moment and the wedding celebration would begin, and this would all be just a bad
dream… The ship was dark and cold all the time, and I was always hungry. I cried out for
my mother and grandmother night and day both hoping they would and wouldn’t answer
me back. Comfort was no longer a benefit, angrily, the ship rocked back and forth over the
seas without regard for her passengers. At times the misery was so extreme death would
have been welcomed.
All the captives on that floating hell were dark like me….but we had come from many
villages and the languages were many so there was difficulty communicating, but there was
one commonality we all shared…a burning determination to survive. It seemed like an
eternity had passed and its odd how even in those kinds of circumstances you can still have
faith to believe in God.
One night in particular, after sleep had been especially gracious to me, I felt rested for the
first time since this happened, I woke early that morning to find the palms of my hand
burning like fire, I looked at my hand in amazement, my white and purple wedding cloth
was tied across my wrist….To this day, its appearance is a mystery, but the very moment I
was aware of its presence …my body became consumed… almost…overcome with emotion