A typical Day of a Rural African Woman

By Prince Bill M. Kaping’a Political/Social Analyst

A cock can be heard crowing in a distance. It repeats the sound insistently as if to remind the villagers their ‘honeymoon’ is over…….and now is the time to wake up and confront the new day with all of its several challenges! The woman arouses herself from bed……..well, several stacks of sticks arranged on a stand. She does so carefully……..making sure not to disturb her husband who seems to be still in contention with the dead.

As she leans to lift off the baby, she grimaces in agonizing pain……the stitches from her cesarean delivery that produced the bouncy baby haven’t quite healed. She peeps into the other hut which the rest of their kids share……they are all in there sleeping soundlessly.

With the baby safely strapped on her back, and armed with a hoe and an axe, of course, she stoops and exits the house to find her way to the field leaving her husband snoring loudly, behind. It’s still dark outside save for the shimmering moonlight. She stops at her usual spot to cut a twig that she uses to brush her teeth.

That tradition was bequeathed to them by their forefathers…….what was the point of even wasting money on toothbrushes and toothpaste when the practice kept her teeth white and free from bacteria. She didn’t even have to worry about soap like folks in the city as she’d simply have to fetch some leaves and rub them on her body before pouring water on herself and voila……all the dirt is gone!

An hour later, she’s at her mini cassava plantation. She stops to admire the work of her hands before securing the baby in the shade amongst the shrubs. The only time her husband has been to the field was once or twice to check on progress.

“The field is coming up nicely my dear wife,” he couldn’t hide his excitement, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. “This field shall soon be the envy of everyone in the village. Well done my love!”

He had pulled her into the bush, asked her to spread her chitenge on the ground, and made love to her like never before! That steamy encounter had resulted in their 7th child in their 10-year marriage.

“My child…..keep on giving him more children and he won’t leave you for another woman,” she recalled the words of her departed mother as she got down to work.

Who knows maybe her husband wouldn’t be lured to that other woman at the other end of the village and just surprise her with another visit to admire her work. Perhaps they could sneak away from the baby and make another child like they did the last time. She must always keep her man happy. In no time, she is furiously extricating the stubborn weeds and systematically applying additional soil to the mounds. She’s put herself to work like one possessed……..only breaking off once or twice to take a sip of water.

Around midday, she’s alerted to hissing sounds in the direction of the baby. She freezes with trepidation, knowingly. She carefully lifts her feet to investigate. It’s a big one…….it’s standing knee length high with its iconic hood flared out as it slicks its tongue in and out!

Seemingly enchanted by the strange creature, the baby throws its tiny hands around as if attempting to grab it but the cobra ducks and positions itself at another angle……ready to strike!

As if on cue, the woman reaches to the ground to find an object but the serpent is fast for her! It lowers itself to the ground as swift as lightening and slithers away. Her heartbeat is palpitating spasmodically. She sweeps the baby off the ground and straps it on her back. It didn’t matter anymore whether the husband would be calling or not. She quickly gathers tubers of cassava on a chitenge along with firewood and balances the same on her head to dash back home.

All of a sudden the voice of the baby pierces her ears as it tries to free its tiny hands and throw them around in protest. She hasn’t fed that day, the mother remembers. She reaches for one of her breasts and thrusts it into its mouth but the baby spits it and cries even more! There’s no milk…….the mother has equally been starving herself. She tries the other breast……..the right one that doesn’t seem to disappoint. The baby suckles on it feverishly……..to the point of biting off her tit.

As she gets closer home, she could hear the animated voice of her husband in a heated argument with his friends……drinking mates if you like as they were obviously squatting around a calabash, as was always the norm, as they took turns sipping off the traditional beer using a single straw.

“There comes your wife Zandonda…….” one of the men observes brusquely, his voice slurred.

He staggers to help her put the load to the ground as he utters something incomprehensible.

She takes time to gather the firewood and make a fire before darting off to the river…….to wash the dishes and fetch water for household consumption as well as soak the cassava in the river. This will have to be left in the water for the next 3 days until it’s ready to be dried up before grinding it into a fine powder. She remembers to take a quick shower just in case…….

By the time she returns home, the men have long retreated to their abodes. She finds her man waiting for her in their hut which they share with their chickens, rabbits, and goats! In keeping with the instructions of her late mother, she drops her clothes to the ground and joins him in bed.

Rest assured she’s fulfilled her obligations as always the dutiful wife, she excuses herself to make them lunch. She grabs a pestle and goes ahead to pound the cassava into a powder before preparing nshima with the caterpillars she picked along the way.

Their other kids, aged between 6 and 11, are back from school or hanging out with friends in time for lunch.

They gather on a reed mat for lunch as the man takes the stool. The chicken…..which is the leftover from the previous night is reserved for the man alone. The others have to make do with the caterpillars and cassava leaves.

“That’s why I love you my wife……” the man says as he crushes a bone like a hyena. “ We can never go hungry like this……you are always working so hard and yet the other woman is always demanding money for food.”

Let’s celebrate the rural woman. This is the pain they’ve to endure day in and out without complaining.