Misozi's pov
I walk into the kitchen and I come across a familiar face. Chiko, my best friend - looking one or two years older than she should - is sitting on a stool, cradling her left arm gently against her chest.
She is broken. Her long afro hair is no more, nothing more than a bald head due to her husband having ripped much of it from her scalp during his fights. Her once beautiful brown skin is now darker with scars and rolling bruises. She was chubby before, but now she has lost so much weight. Now, she is almost the same as me. Her smile does not reach her eyes anymore. They are haunted, illustrating a story of pain and lost hope. I notice cuts on her face and a split upper lip along the right hand side. It breaks my heart to see and witness. My best friend does not deserve this. The once cheerful Chiko, easygoing and strong, is not the one I am looking at right now.
I sigh softly and stride up to her, where I put my arms around her shoulders and pull her closer to me. She leans against my stomach.
This is not the first time she has come to me in this kind of condition. Other times she came with a black eye, or sprained ankle, broken rips, or a bump on her head. All of this is caused by her husband. What could have happened this time?
I take a deep breath to calm my my emotions, and let it back out slowly before I speak.
"How are you feeling, Chiko? I can tell your husband hurt you again."
"I feel better." Her voice lacked its usual strength and vibrancy. Her gaze barely meets my eyes.
"What did he do to your arm?" I ask gently.
"I don't remember. Everything happened to fast." She still refuses to meet my gaze, and keeps her attention lowered to her arm.
"Can you show me where you feel the pain?"
She points at a dark bruise and swelling encircling her wrist just like the rest of her arm. "Right here." I can clearly and easily imagine a man's large hand squeezing hard enough to cause this. I am sure there are broken bones hidden beneath the discoloured skin. This is sickening, and anger and hatred stirs in my heart. How dare Chiko's husband do this to her!
"Okay, I will get you some herbs for that. Do you need something for the pain too?" I ask, focusing on helping my best friend instead of losing my temper at her husband's actions.
Forcing a smile, Chiko nods her head with meek agreement."Do you feel pain anywhere else? Maybe you hit your head, or ribs? I can escort you to a healer," I ask with aching concern.
"No. Nowhere else," she assures me. I nod my head on the outside, but internally, I still think we need to see a healer.
"Alright. Sit tight. I'll be back in a moment," I say to her firmly, and walk to the cupboard to collect some herbs my mother made to relieve pain.
"Let me apply this around your wrist," I say, and gently take her arm, where I apply the poultice. Once done, I hand her a small package. "Here. I've left you some herbs you can take with you, just in case the pain comes back."
Although she winces in pain, she manages to speak, her voice wavering with emotion. "Thank you, Misozi. I thank the Gods for a friend like you."
I shrug her off. "It's nothing, Chiko. What are friends for, after all?"
But as I watch her in pain, I notice the watery glint in her dark eyes and hear the waver in her voice something inside me finally snaps. Enough is enough. I decide I need to see the King. This is getting out of hand. Chiko has been suffering and enduring physical abuse, and yet nothing has ever been done about it. I cannot bear to see her in pain.
"Chiko, you don't have to put up with anyone hurting you. We need to address this to the King. This is too much. It's over the line."
Chiko bows her head with tired defeat. "The King won't do anything to help me, Misozi, and you know it,"she says quietly.
"I know," I retort in anger. "But we have to try. We are human too! We should not be treated like animals. I will fight for our rights. I will not give up, even if it might get me killed. The King is supposed to help victims, but he never even tries, and is has created a vicious circle, one that cannot be broken unless he does something about it. I'll see you later. I'm going to the palace."
My statement surprises her, and her eyes widen in shock. "Right now?" She asks in disbelief.
"Yes. Now."
"Miso, this is a bad idea. Please don't go," she begs.
"I'm sorry, but if no one is willing to fight to equal rights, then I will," I announce, and stride out the door.
*****
"I demand an audience with the King," I say firmly to the Royal Guards.
"He is busy," one of them replies flatly.
"I don't care. I need to see him. Now," I demand.
"If you do not leave now, we will do this the hard way," the dark skinned guard warns me. "So leave while you still have the chance."
I clench my fists and hold my ground. "Do your worst. I'm not leaving this place. I am not afraid of any of you," I say, my voice strong as I glare daggers at the five towering guards.
Enough," the one who I assume is in charge, interrupts.
"Grab her and get her out of here. We don't have time for this nonsense."
"No! I want to see the King, and I won't leave until I give him a piece of my mind!" I shout while struggling to escape the hold of the two guards grabbing my arms. My arms are like twigs in their giant grip.
"What is going on here?" I hear the voice of the King command, his tone regal and full of authority.
There! There he is! I think in triumph. I turn around to face him, but what he says next, shocks me.
His eyes widen with shocked recognition. "Misozi?"
Did he just say my name?