My name is kyakusimire, I am a village girl
Don’t know much about those glittery things you call cell phones
Don’t know much about talking to my friends over those “things”.
My friends and I usually meet in the forest when we go to fetch fire wood. We socialize then;anticipating about the days to come and then talk about our ancestors…
Auntie says we are being groomed into fearless women and I believe her.
My hair and skin need no fancy oil. coconut is all we know;we use it to cook, for our skin and hair.
We take turns braiding each others hair into corn rows; our village boys praise our techniques.
Going to the well to fetch water, we get to show off our womanly strength; balancing clay pots on our heads. Our village boys are left in wonder and we know then our fathers will soon be having the sacred discussions about our hands in marriage.
I still follow grandma to the garden to gather vegetables for supper; which we still prepare for hours. I can’t use those metal tools the city people use to eat. I use my hands and occasionally banana leaves.
We still sit under the moonlight and tell stories….
The “Lesu” is my favorite attire still. I can make it whatever I want;a dress, a skirt or perhaps a towel after my river shower with Auntie.
Oh I will mention too, I really can not walk in those high heeled shoes; It’s easier when I am barefoot.
I know I will one day marry in my village; for grandpa says he has spotted the right fit for our family.
And yes in this village I will stay and raise my own children for I am a proud village girl.
By Susan McMillan