Carob

*The hiss of the pan*

The palm oil's scent wafting through the thatch roof Burning and enriching the very skin that was made from the muddy sable soil beneath her feet.The meat sizzling dangerously and browning from the outside in.

The smell mouthwatering to any that passed by.

Carob was proud of her name even though such a beautiful name was given to the most beautiful maidens of the village.Her parents defied all and made sure her character reflected her name.

She did well to earn it. When she spoke, it resonated with others. Sweet as cinnamon Bitter as the richest coffee The sweat gleaming off her dark skin like crystals

The steam rising from the pot making her appear ethereal She was known in her village as the sun of the Gods. There was only so much she could do as a woman, but her power was unreal... unmatched... impossible

Suddenly She looked up. A stranger.

He was different from her. He wore garments as white as the cowrie shells used to trade He must be wealthy

She was not scared She has seen one of them before preaching of a new god He had something in his hand it was dark

his hands were quaking as he lifted the black stick in his hand it was written all over his face she stood from her crouch he hesitated

her dark stallion beauty reminded him of his farm in the west world he put the gun down and walked towards her he was entranced by her

he didn’t know that he moved closer when he could smell the pungent smell of meat and palm oil he wanted her

but he didn’t get to finish his thought process when he noted

A spear like knife made from wood and bone was embedded in his chest she was carob the blessed one chosen by the gods to him she was a witch

For the village she was the anchor and messenger of the gods he was sent to put a bullet in her head by the church to end their final resistance of the satanic gods

“kwa jina la miungu na watu wangu” she said “in the name of the gods and my people”

He gasped as her dark eyes turned white for a split second making her drive the knife deeper into his chest.

Fear

He died on a simple mission to kill a young woman He could see his whole brigade laugh at his failure His family will be labeled the house of a shameless soldier Seduced by an African bitch

Fear of death Fear of shame Fear of failure

His last dying breath He still thought of her beauty She looked like a vixen with her brows knotted in a frown

He forgot his own predicament And thought Why are we here to save? When all they needed to do

- PasopNegra -