Apondi peeps from behind the granary. She watches her friend Junta run to catch up with a group of girls walking to school, their bare feet skipping down the dusty path in excitement, their school bags swinging as they laugh and talk happily. She could be with them, but not today. She does not know what to do with her blood. The insides of her tummy were knotting and scratching painfully. She had never felt like this. Why the pain? Why the blood? “I swear never to steal food from the pot,” She whispered to herself as another moment of an invisible hand scratched and knotted her insides. That was the only feasible explanation for the 3 day pains she’d had and the red stain on her school uniform.
“Apondi!” someone calls out. She sees her best friend, Atieno’s elder sister Junta, stop and turn towards their compound. She must have been delayed by their lazy mother. Atieno had told Apondi how for some reason her mother would get lazy and have either Junta or her other friends do the hard work at some point almost every month. She would keep to herself or pretend to be at the “shamba” tilling. Junta never complained, why would she? She was allowed to miss school once in a while or their mother would pretend to not see her lies and truancy, who gets malaria or some illness every month?
A mother’s favorite that’s who. Atieno and her brother had tried and gotten a thorough whooping. She secretly envied Junta but Apondi believed there must be a valid reason. Junta was kind and one of the brightest girls in their school. Apondi wished she had an elder sister instead of her 6 goofy, indifferent brothers. She’ll talk to Junta. Junta will not tell on her. “Psst!” she called out, “Junta!”
Junta sees her behind the granary and runs towards her, puzzled. ” Itima’ang’o kae? Ang’o momiyo ipondo kae?” What are you doing here? Why are you hiding? You shouldn’t start skipping school. Then Junta smelt it on her, that coppery distinctive smell. The blood.
Junta ran to the nearest banana tree, thanking heavens for Gem’s fertile land. She was good at it, luckily for her, her grandma had maintained the culture and traditions. She had taught her everything, which part of the leaf to take, 3 if possible for comfort, how to walk with her legs tight together to ensure the leaves don’t fall off and the unsuspecting eye doesn’t see. She knew some of her friends used old clothes but that was not convenient one had the hustle of finding old clothes to use, washing, drying, they got torn, increased chances of leaking and everyone’s nightmare…an infection! Plus they are lucky if they have 2 clothes, other than their school uniform. Banana leaves are amongst many things, free and available.
Junta rushed back to Apondi, who was whimpering. :”I do not know what is going on,” Apondi apologized. “Shhh! Apondi mama kiki ywak, en mana koth.koth obiro.” Apondi dear don’t cry, it’s just periods. She gave her a 4 minute survival crush course. She’d be fine. She left her with strict instructions Apondi was to go have a quick shower, luckily they all knew the importance of hygiene, how to ensure the right areas are clean using the least amount of water. She was to put the leaves on, find a way to replace the stolen water before people come back. She’d have to stay out of sight till lunch time the time she is supposed to be back from school. She is to walk with her thighs together, no running allowed during this time. Later she will find a “kube” jerrycan that she can keep water in for emergencies or to wash up. They will also wash her uniform together. Apondi knows how to wash mud off clothes, so this will be easy but still it needs to be inspected if anything to reassure her. Poor girl, Junta was lucky her woes came when she was 14!
“Let me rush to school, Mrs Otieno will beat me up for sure, I am thirty minutes late. I will see you later! “Junta said as she patted her friend’s shoulder and ran off. Later on, Junta would come play her grandma’s role that “civilization” had gotten rid of without offering a viable replacement.
Alone, Apondi stared down the path her beautiful friend had disappeared into. They both were the cleverest in school, exchanging the number one and two positions in their respective classes every exam. Both have big dreams for Gem. Both don’t want to be a ‘sister’ (nurse) like everyone says they will become. ”We will be doctors” the two keep reminding each other. “We are going to be surgeons and open a big hospital in Gem Uyonga.” Their friends tell them they are mad, girls don’t dream that big. But she knows it is possible. Mrs Otieno believes in her. Her mother doesn’t quite get her but dana* does.
Apondi clutches at her tummy and curls herself on the ground. The grass around the granary is soft. Maybe she can lie down in that position for a while; it seems to help with the pain. She stares at the farm, thinking about herself. “Apondi,” Mrs. Otieno had told her one day, when she found her tilling the farm during holidays. “Congratulations, this term you were number one, and your friend number two. “You two are like twins! “She said. She went on to tell her she needs to keep at it that way. That she needs to be among the best in order to get admitted to a National school. That yes, it was a worry that her parents might not be able to raise school fees once she joins high school, but no, she should not give up. If she continues performing well, she will get a scholarship. When Mrs. Otieno left her, she had felt better. So many stakes but she isn’t giving up.
She starts to cry. She does not know why she is crying. One second it is tears of joy, at what lies ahead in her life if she follows Mrs. Otieno’s advice. She will be a surgeon one day. She will open a big hospital with her friend Junta.
The next moment it is tears of sadness. Junta had told her the blood will be coming once a month. She will have to keep doing the banana leaves between the legs thing. She will not be able to go to school for the three days or so the banana leaves are between her legs. “But this will mean missing classes! We cannot be doctors if we miss classes three days every month!” she had whispered angrily at Junta. “I hate this blood! It is a curse that will spoil our education!”
“No!” Junta had whispered back. “It is what makes us women. Me and you, we are strong. We shall not let the blood make us drop out of school like all those girls who stop going to school once the blood comes and become housewives and casual labourers.” She remembered all those girls who immediately stopped their education when they reached a certain age. Some became market girls selling mangoes.
“When we go to high school in the city, we shall no longer use banana leaves.” Junta had told her. “They have things there that they buy in the shops that prevent the blood from staining clothes. No one stops what they do in the city because of blood. But here, we have to use the banana leaves and stay at home until we leave this village.”
Apondi turns to look at the dress. There are a few drops of blood. Junta had told her it is expected. The banana leaves help, but a few stains are expected. She does not know what to do with these stains. And her clever friend Junta is not around. She hears the lunch break bell ring beyond the banana grove. If it were not for the blood, she would be the one ringing the school bell.
*pondo is to hide
*dana is grandma in Dholuo /luo
https://www.standardmedia.co.
https://www.nation.co.ke/health/free-pads-inconsistency/3476990-5135248-kindv8/index.html
“Apondi!” someone calls out. She sees her best friend, Atieno’s elder sister Junta, stop and turn towards their compound. She must have been delayed by their lazy mother. Atieno had told Apondi how for some reason her mother would get lazy and have either Junta or her other friends do the hard work at some point almost every month. She would keep to herself or pretend to be at the “shamba” tilling. Junta never complained, why would she? She was allowed to miss school once in a while or their mother would pretend to not see her lies and truancy, who gets malaria or some illness every month?
A mother’s favorite that’s who. Atieno and her brother had tried and gotten a thorough whooping. She secretly envied Junta but Apondi believed there must be a valid reason. Junta was kind and one of the brightest girls in their school. Apondi wished she had an elder sister instead of her 6 goofy, indifferent brothers. She’ll talk to Junta. Junta will not tell on her. “Psst!” she called out, “Junta!”
Junta sees her behind the granary and runs towards her, puzzled. ” Itima’ang’o kae? Ang’o momiyo ipondo kae?” What are you doing here? Why are you hiding? You shouldn’t start skipping school. Then Junta smelt it on her, that coppery distinctive smell. The blood.
Junta ran to the nearest banana tree, thanking heavens for Gem’s fertile land. She was good at it, luckily for her, her grandma had maintained the culture and traditions. She had taught her everything, which part of the leaf to take, 3 if possible for comfort, how to walk with her legs tight together to ensure the leaves don’t fall off and the unsuspecting eye doesn’t see. She knew some of her friends used old clothes but that was not convenient one had the hustle of finding old clothes to use, washing, drying, they got torn, increased chances of leaking and everyone’s nightmare…an infection! Plus they are lucky if they have 2 clothes, other than their school uniform. Banana leaves are amongst many things, free and available.
Junta rushed back to Apondi, who was whimpering. :”I do not know what is going on,” Apondi apologized. “Shhh! Apondi mama kiki ywak, en mana koth.koth obiro.” Apondi dear don’t cry, it’s just periods. She gave her a 4 minute survival crush course. She’d be fine. She left her with strict instructions Apondi was to go have a quick shower, luckily they all knew the importance of hygiene, how to ensure the right areas are clean using the least amount of water. She was to put the leaves on, find a way to replace the stolen water before people come back. She’d have to stay out of sight till lunch time the time she is supposed to be back from school. She is to walk with her thighs together, no running allowed during this time. Later she will find a “kube” jerrycan that she can keep water in for emergencies or to wash up. They will also wash her uniform together. Apondi knows how to wash mud off clothes, so this will be easy but still it needs to be inspected if anything to reassure her. Poor girl, Junta was lucky her woes came when she was 14!
“Let me rush to school, Mrs Otieno will beat me up for sure, I am thirty minutes late. I will see you later! “Junta said as she patted her friend’s shoulder and ran off. Later on, Junta would come play her grandma’s role that “civilization” had gotten rid of without offering a viable replacement.
Alone, Apondi stared down the path her beautiful friend had disappeared into. They both were the cleverest in school, exchanging the number one and two positions in their respective classes every exam. Both have big dreams for Gem. Both don’t want to be a ‘sister’ (nurse) like everyone says they will become. ”We will be doctors” the two keep reminding each other. “We are going to be surgeons and open a big hospital in Gem Uyonga.” Their friends tell them they are mad, girls don’t dream that big. But she knows it is possible. Mrs Otieno believes in her. Her mother doesn’t quite get her but dana* does.
Apondi clutches at her tummy and curls herself on the ground. The grass around the granary is soft. Maybe she can lie down in that position for a while; it seems to help with the pain. She stares at the farm, thinking about herself. “Apondi,” Mrs. Otieno had told her one day, when she found her tilling the farm during holidays. “Congratulations, this term you were number one, and your friend number two. “You two are like twins! “She said. She went on to tell her she needs to keep at it that way. That she needs to be among the best in order to get admitted to a National school. That yes, it was a worry that her parents might not be able to raise school fees once she joins high school, but no, she should not give up. If she continues performing well, she will get a scholarship. When Mrs. Otieno left her, she had felt better. So many stakes but she isn’t giving up.
She starts to cry. She does not know why she is crying. One second it is tears of joy, at what lies ahead in her life if she follows Mrs. Otieno’s advice. She will be a surgeon one day. She will open a big hospital with her friend Junta.
The next moment it is tears of sadness. Junta had told her the blood will be coming once a month. She will have to keep doing the banana leaves between the legs thing. She will not be able to go to school for the three days or so the banana leaves are between her legs. “But this will mean missing classes! We cannot be doctors if we miss classes three days every month!” she had whispered angrily at Junta. “I hate this blood! It is a curse that will spoil our education!”
“No!” Junta had whispered back. “It is what makes us women. Me and you, we are strong. We shall not let the blood make us drop out of school like all those girls who stop going to school once the blood comes and become housewives and casual labourers.” She remembered all those girls who immediately stopped their education when they reached a certain age. Some became market girls selling mangoes.
“When we go to high school in the city, we shall no longer use banana leaves.” Junta had told her. “They have things there that they buy in the shops that prevent the blood from staining clothes. No one stops what they do in the city because of blood. But here, we have to use the banana leaves and stay at home until we leave this village.”
Apondi turns to look at the dress. There are a few drops of blood. Junta had told her it is expected. The banana leaves help, but a few stains are expected. She does not know what to do with these stains. And her clever friend Junta is not around. She hears the lunch break bell ring beyond the banana grove. If it were not for the blood, she would be the one ringing the school bell.
*pondo is to hide
*dana is grandma in Dholuo /luo
https://www.standardmedia.co.
https://www.nation.co.ke/health/free-pads-inconsistency/3476990-5135248-kindv8/index.html
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