Bundu Trap - Windward Community College

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with the thin rod now seems more interested in me than in her pupils. “The little girl understands things well,” she says, nodding to Auntie Mbalia. “Oh, but if her granny is not around, I will be the one in charge. I hope she knows that.” Granny puts her arms around me. I know that I have been saved so far only because she, like my mother, believes in education. Then turning to me, Auntie Mbalia adds, “Just pray for your granny to be alive until you finish school.” Even though Auntie Mbalia loves to tease me, I know she is serious about having me circumcised as soon as possible. Her own three daughters were all circumcised only a few days after birth. Auntie Mbalia believes in doing things “the way our people did.” I know I have been saved so far only because Granny, like my mother, believes in education. Granny single-handedly put her two sons through school after her husband died, when my father, the elder, was only six years old. She has not regretted the sacrifice; her children provide adequately for her today. “I’m not dying yet. I won’t die until I’ve seen all my granddaughters circumcised,” Granny says defensively. “Amin, 8 Amin, Amin,” the women chorus, including Auntie Mbalia. The woman with the stick sets herself down on the floor. “That’s the dream of every grandmother. Allah will answer your prayers.” She is almost whispering now, her face changing into the same serious mold it had when she scrutinized her pupils. She settles the rod on the ground beside her, pulls her clothes together and tucks them between her legs. “That was my grandmother’s biggest dream,” she begins. “She was a sowe herself in my village, and she taught me everything I know today. I used to go with her to the bushes to pick the leaves she used. We would wake up early in the morning, before even the fowls began to crow, to set off for the bushes. Even though I was only about six or seven years old, she only had to say my name once, and I was jumping out of the mat. I used to sleep on the ground beside her. There would be nobody on the paths from the moment we left the hut until we returned from the depth of the bushes. My grandmother liked it that way—she tried to avoid bad spirits who might spoil the power of the leaves. She knew the strength of every leaf in the bush, the old woman. All her life as a sowe, almost forty years, she never once lost a child in operation. Not a single one.” The women punctuate the story with impressive Alhamdudilais. 9 “And remember, with us Temne 10 people, we put our children through society at a very early age, sometimes as young as five years, for both girls and boys. You know the sooner we were prepared for marriage, the better it was for our parents.…” “But in Freetown, most Temne girls who go to school don’t go through society until after they finish school,” Fanta argues. I had almost forgotten what Fanta’s voice sounded like. It is the first time I’ve heard any of the girls speak since I entered the bush. I don’t know how the thin stick got from the floor to the air. I just see it there, flying about. “Did I ask any of my girls a question?” The woman with the stick is talking to the bamboo ceiling. She turns to the other women and asks, “People, did I give Fanta permission to talk? Is Fanta allowed to talk when society women are talking? Fanta who is still not healed, Fanta who still has more than half the trials of society to pass through—can she talk when the rest of us are talking? Women, please tell me.” I notice Auntie Fanta vehemently loosening a small knot at the edge of her clothes. Hiding behind her namesake, she unfolds a small stack of bills and retrieves two notes, which she folds up into an even smaller stack. She ties her wrap again and stands up. “Mami Sowe, you did not throw any words at Fanta, and Fanta should not have the mind to talk before she’s asked 4 Article 27. Bundu Trap to do so. But she’s only been here three weeks. Let us please forgive her. In time, she’ll learn the ways of a woman. That’s the reason.…” I do not hear the rest of Auntie Fanta’s words. The name Mami Sowe has just taken effect on me. “Is she Mami Sowe?” I ask in Granny’s ears. Granny does not answer. Auntie Fanta tries to press the folded notes into the woman’s hand. “Let this pay the fine.” “But did I ask for a fine yet? You Fantas are all alike. You think I’m cheap? Don’t you know that if there’s a fine, I should tell you what the fine should be? This is the problem with Bundu in towns. There is no respect for the sowe. Get away from me.” She pushes Auntie Fanta with her elbow. The women are laughing, and I suddenly find them all very strange. I am actually standing in Mami Sowe’s presence, and I did not know it, just as Fanta did not suspect the shopping expedition with Auntie Iye would end up in the Bundu bush. Me, finally in the hands of Mami Sowe. Even as the women laugh, they’re nodding their heads in agreement with Mami Sowe. They all agree with everything she says. Auntie Fanta stands up and playfully pulls at the extra flesh under Mami Sowe’s armpit. “What do you expect? We’re in Freetown; this is British Bundu.” Mami Sowe points a hand at Auntie Fanta. “Then maybe you should have taken your children to the British so they can circumcise them.” “Oh, they can do that in hospitals nowadays, you know, and you don’t even have to go through all the expenses. You do it quietly there, everything is faster, and you bring them home sooner.” This is the first time I’m hearing this. There’s Bundu in the hospitals too? First there was injection, now there’s circumcision. I must remember that next time mother asks me to accompany her to visit some relative at the hospital. But I’m not the only person who is shocked. Mami Sowe’s mouth is agape. She recovers soon enough and takes on Auntie Fanta.
ANNUAL EDITIONS “Can the hospitals perform the different ceremonies? Can they teach your daughters to fetch water from a well, to cook, to know when to talk, to know how to address elders? Can the hospitals prepare them for marriage? Can the hospitals find them husbands? Only a fool like you will put your daughters through all that pain without teaching them anything. Just move out of my way.” Everybody laughs again. One of the laughs from the mat is so loud that it startles Mami Sowe. She turns around and addresses the girls in a commanding tone. “Who laughed like that?” The girls on the mat look at one another and maintain a cold silence. “I want to know the person who laughed so loud just now. I want her to sell me some raw fish.” 11 The silence is beginning to freeze. “If you all think you will leave my bush without good manners, then my name is not Mami Sowe.” Mami Sowe’s countenance has taken an even sterner look than the one it had when I first walked into the bush. She now looks like what I’d always imagined her to be—a heartless, merciless inflicter of pain on little girls. She pans the faces of her pupils from one end of the room to another. Auntie Mbalia cuts through the silence. “You have to learn to adjust your behavior in this bush. Whatever loose ways you have acquired during your lifetime, this is the place where you offload them and leave them on these mats.” Auntie Seray adjusts her head-tie to deliver her portion of the speech: “You must listen to instructions and learn to comport yourselves well in this bush. This is the beginning of your adult life, your life as a woman, a respectable woman in society. The skills you learn here will be with you for the rest of your lives. If you cannot own up to your responsibilities here, where else will you be able to do that?” Mami Sowe is now looking so pleased, I almost think the speeches were meant to please her and were not for the girls. Auntie Seray moves closely to her namesake and, rubbing her legs, whispers a few words into her ear. Seray adjusts herself on the mat. “OK, I was the one who laughed,” she says. Then, as if angered by her own confession, she tosses her chin up and adds, “What’s wrong with laughing, anyway?” Seray barely finishes her sentence before her mother in some magical way gets the stick from Granny’s hands and starts hitting Seray incessantly on the head. “What’s wrong with this child? She should have been circumcised long before this.” I wriggle my small body between Granny’s legs to hide my presence, lest they decide to have me circumcised before I become like Seray. I know one day I will be circumcised. But I also know that when the time comes, I will not surrender without a fight. Granny is crying and swaying her behind from side to side, unable to get up from her bench, and wanting everyone to see her distress. “All these witches walking around this bush ever since these children were brought here, trying to destroy my grandchildren, trying to distract them from the lessons they should be learning.” Then wiping her tears, she says decisively, “Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I am sending for Pa Morlia 12 to drive out the bad spirits. I will put an end to this, or my name is not Yamakoro.” The attention of everyone now turns to calming down Granny. They remind her of her high blood pressure, ask her to look to God, assure her that Seray will change, show her examples of wild girls who changed and ended up getting good husbands. Mami Sowe is rubbing Granny’s back; a soft look now blankets her face. The conciliatory mood in the room is interrupted by the entrance of one of the women who were cutting meat outside. She walks over and kneels down beside Mami Sowe, then whispers something in her ear. Mami Sowe in turn whispers into Granny’s ear, and Granny straightens up, then makes a hand movement I do not 5 understand to Auntie Mbalia. The latter looks at me, then at Auntie Fanta, then back at me. “Granny, can I go to the bathroom?” I ask quietly. “Not yet,” she answers, then points to the meat-cutting woman. “Go with Auntie Zainab. She will take you home,” she says, and she continues whispering with Mami Sowe. Confused, I try to remember how I arrived here. I had told mother I didn’t know how to get to the Bundu bush, but that was only an excuse not to come. In fact, I had located the bush the very first week my sister and cousins started their confinement here, and I’d increased considerably my reasons for passing by Granny’s house during every errand I ran. While I usually give all Bundu bushes a wide berth, it has been difficult to distance myself from this one holding Fanta and my cousins within. Sometimes, while standing in front of it, I was petrified and mesmerized at the same time. All the women in my family are Bundu women. I know that one day, with or without my consent, I will be circumcised. But I also know that when the time comes, I will not give in without a fight. My mother is sitting on the kitchen steps, her face in her hands. As soon as she sees me, she stands up. “If you didn’t want to take the food for me, you should have said so.” I do not believe my mother is talking like that. I cannot contest her now so I just let her talk while I catch my breath. “All that food I spent the whole day preparing; for you to go and throw it all away like that, in the blink of an eye.” “I was afraid,” I manage to add through breaths. “I thought.…” “I don’t want to know what you thought. I warned you to keep your hands on the tray. I don’t know why you think you can keep a tray on your head without your hands on it.” “I was holding it. I held it all the way to Granny’s house.” “And what were you standing in the bush for? What business did you have there when they wanted to start the ceremonies?” “Granny wanted a strange woman to take me away,” I reply.
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Bundu Trap - Windward Community College

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