Mwasi.

Mwasi runs into her yard,calabash in one hand.. empty….
…..”Mama …mama ,I have seen them….their skin texture is toned,coloured like the fine maize in the mortar…”
She rushes to meet her,clad in a tigress hide,locks tied in a crown ..her humongous bosoms, bounce against her chest proudly….her nipples swollen, Rudo’s midday meal. Fire rekindle in one hand,the first instinct of a mother is protect her daughter….
“..their nose are like beaks of woodpeckers,their eyes are the colour of the sea..” ……
Mwasi trembles, goose bumps ooze sweat of adrenaline…her vital organ pounds ,her diaphragm tremors ….
“They bipedal the land…hair tiny golden reeds…. I know Mama ,I have seen how the breath of my forefathers sway them….”

Africa.

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