Misozi's POV
"Are you attending the festival tomorrow?" I overheard one of the women ask her friends while I am drawing water from the river.
"Definitely," another responds, her voice high with excitement. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, my dear!"
I was not aware there would be a festival tomorrow. Mother did not mention it to me. It could be because I was cooped up in my room the whole of yesterday.
After my encounter with the King the other day and then hearing of a search party hunting for any girl called 'Misozi', I hid in my room. I knew he was looking for me,therefore I lied to my mother and told her I was not feeling very well. In all honesty, it was not really a lie, because the fear twisted my gutenough to certainly make me feel unwell, so much so that I had no appetite.
I would not be surprised if checking out the King is a crime. It obviously has to with the 'no direct eye contact with your superiors' rule. Nothing surprises me in this Kingdom anymore. It is like punishing and killing are some of the King's hobbies. I disrespected him, therefore he is now searching for me to punish me.
A scowl marks my brow and my jaw clenches. This has gone on long enough. I refuse to live like a fugitive anymore. I refuse to live in fear! How will I prove my point to the people of the N'Jovu Kingdom? Hiding in fear will serve to only prove the King he is right.
"Misozi, will you attend too?" One of the women asks me.
"No," I said bluntly. "I won't." It was the truth.
"Well, too bad for you. You won't be one of the lucky girls he may choose to spend some quality time with," another giggles with a wink.
I roll my eyes at their ignorance. "Oh I know. And I don't care. Unlike some others, I actually care about my dignity and pride. So please, by all means, go ahead and have fun, girls! Show us how high your standards are, and by standards, I mean desperate," I laugh, carrying the bucket of water and put it on my head, before walking away.
One thing I take pride in about myself, is I am not afraid to speak my mind when I believe it is necessary.
Did I mention that of the King's many disturbing hobbies, using women for pleasure is one of them as well? He is a King of broken hearts too. I'd rather die single and a virgin, than let myself be used by that nasty man, I think to myself with hard resolve..I want to give myself to a man that I will love and whom shall love me in return. I want to be married for love, not responsibility, like so many other women have had to.
It is tragic. The King and his father do not believe in love. They despise women with so much passion that they took away our rights; our rights to speech, movement, work, education and so much more. But what is most unforgivable, is they took away our right to love and be loved. A few rare and lucky women have testified to having a happy marriage. One full of love and joy, not just responsibility.
Men who have shown affection to their wives are considered to be weak. Thus they fear of being judged by others, and so refrain from showing any such love and care to their wives. While I walked, I vowed to the Gods that if I never find a man who will love and accept me as an
equal, I shall die single.
*****
"Misozi! Why are you not dressed for the festival? Don't you realise how late you are?" Mother asks worried, hovering around me nervously.
"I'm not going, Mother, and please don't force me," I reply.
"But the King wants all the maidens to attend it," she says.
"I don't want to go, Mother. Will you please just drop it? I want to be here, with you," I whine.
Mother stops her nervous hovering. "Fine," she sighs, and then pauses thoughtfully. "There is something I've been meaning to ask you, Misozi."
Oh no! I think as shoulders tense instantly in response to her tone. I hate it when she sounds like this. So serious and scary. I exhale heavily and mentally prepare myself for the question.
"Why was the King looking for a girl c -"
"No, no, no! I'm not the one he was looking for," I interrupt her and quickly rise from the stool.
"Any girl can be a 'Misozi'. I'm not the only one. There are so many of us. What could I possibly do to make him look for me? I mean, even if I was-"
"Misozi . . . hey, Misozi!" Mother shouts to get my attention. I blab a lot when I am nervous.
She regards me with a knowing stare, the kind which silently speaks 'explain yourself right now or else'.
With resignation, my shoulders sag with my sigh and I sit back down on my stool.
"I . . . I met him the other day when I went to chop some wood. He asked me my name, I told him, and that was it. I swear."
She peers at me, deciphering whether I am lying or have left anything out. Technically, the latter is true, but I will not tell her I admired the King's physical form and checked him out. Who hasn't anyway? Plus, this is Mother we're talking about here. She gets worried about anything and everything.
"That's it? Are you sure?" She presses.
I nod my head.
"If you didn't do anything wrong, then you should go and present yourself to him. You cannot ignore our King."
"Don't worry, Mother. We cannot be sure I'm the one he is looking for."
"I hope so, my dear. Anyway, now that's cleared up, help me finish cleaning the mess here," she says, thankfully changing topic.
"I thought somebody didn't need me here," I tease.
"And who says I do?" She teases back.
"Very well then, see you later. I'm going to have my first dance with the King," I laugh and Mother joins in.
"As if you would," Mother snickers.
I place a hand over my heart. "You underestimate me, Mother," I joke.
"Oh please, now come here and finish this quickly. We haven't got all day."
"Fine, fine," I say, lifting my hands in surrender.
"The Queen Mother gets whatever she wants," I say,and she smiles at me with warmth and fondness.