Book Read Free

The Bride Price: An African Romance (Chitundu Chronicles)

Page 26

by Suzanne Popp


  As she said this to herself, a breath of fresh plumeria scent blew into the rondavel and she felt a tremendous relief and a joy enter her spirit. She went to the rondavel where Festal was sleeping, and saw he was sitting at the wall of the compound. He, too, had scented the perfume of the tree growing above their Lily’s grave. He was also in a state of oneness with how their lives were being spun into a tapestry of love and peace. They were looking forward to meeting the new Lily Wonder and getting to know her story, and what she would bring to their lives, even as they had moved from the wonder of reunion with Whenny, and knew that there was a plan to all of this. Myrna kissed her husband good night, and they went to their sleeping places to wait for what the morning would bring.

  The mattress was sweet with the new grasses they had stuffed into it during the dry season. Myrna pulled her cloth over her face and turned to the wall. Festal was sleeping in the small rondavel alone tonight and she was wondering if he was missing having her close to him.

  Morning came suddenly on the plateau. The rooster had scarcely finished his clarion call and the donkeys were still braying a love song when the heat of mid-December sucked up all life from the air. Myrna pulled herself out of bed and felt the welcome coolness of her polished floor. She gathered her clothes from where she had left them and hung them on the peg near the bed. Today, the local people would meet the international team. The coordinators had asked her to wear her traditional dress. She pulled it from the trunk in the storage room and smoothed it out on the bed. When the fire was going well, she drew a few charred coals out of it and carried them to the iron, put them inside, then ran the bottom of the iron over a towel to make sure none of the soot remained on the bottom.

  On the small table, with a cloth laid down, she pressed her dress for the welcoming. Her hair was pulled into a nylon scarf then wrapped in a fanciful bow shaped headdress of the same material as her skirt and wrap. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and applied a small amount of kohl to her eyes and some coloring on her lips. There was bound to be a number of photos taken, she had learned this when she met her first international team. Slipping on her sandals, she finished her cup of tea and two slices of bread, then headed for the village square. Festal was going to feed the animals, then dress in his abaya, and join them later. Her friend Priscilla met her on the path. She too, had her traditional skirt and top with her hair braided, then pulled into a wrap that resembled a mortar board in its shape. The two laughed to see each other so fancified.

  “As if anyone will know who we are,” they laughed. “Two classic women that have outlived most of our peers in cattle country.” Royal had driven out to Blancville to pick up his Aunt Violet and Lily Wonder and bring them to Copperfine, just in time to see Myrna receive the endowment for her school. Festal was there, dressed in his best abaya.

  Festal was charmed by the little girl, who promptly sketched him—complete in his tribal dress, and surrounded by fattest and most beautiful of cows. He let her lead him around the school site, commenting to him on what was most important to see. When it was time for the ceremony, the chiefs invited Priscilla, Myrna and Festal to be seated with the dignitaries. As they were seated there, waiting for the ceremony to begin, Gift arrived and Myrna signaled her to join them on the podium.

  The gathering consisted of about one hundred people. The village chiefs came, along with several school children, the magistrate, the affiliate members, and the team of 14 volunteers. All of them had cameras and began immediately taking pictures of Myrna and Priscilla. The women were glad they looked so colorful. There were speeches, a prayer, some songs, and then one of the women from the team stepped forward. “I am from England,” she said. “I have been asked to bring a special book and a special letter from my country. The person I am seeking is Myrna Chitundu.” Myrna felt the heat come into her cheeks as she recognized her maiden name and the diary from her school days.

  Myrna stood to acknowledge she was the woman, then the English woman continued. “My name is Sarah Taylor. My father Wellington Taylor left an endowment for a school for girls in the care and name of his prize student, Myrna Chitundu. I am here to present this to you. I am his daughter. We have permission from the Ministry of Education to commence the building of that school, which is why this team is here in Copperfine.”

  The audience broke into applause and unexpected tears ran down Myrna Chitundu Phiri’s face. Her daughter, Rose, who was seated beside her, handed her a tissue. Cameras flashed and the pictures were on the news by evening. Myrna took the hand of her friend Priscilla and was so glad her sister Violet and Lily Wonder had been there to share the joy. Gift loved the ceremony and the pomp. For now, Myrna’s heart was full and she turned to the village chief. He nodded his head and rose to announce that the land would be donated for the project, and the team would begin the foundations the following morning, once the engineers laid out the corners. Then he signaled the children from the middle school and they began their dance of the impala.

  A dozen small boys and more mature girls jumped and gyrated to the music of the drums and the rattles the dancers wore around their ankles. Each dancer wore a neat costume of antelope skin whose sepia and white patterns highlighted the golden brown bodies of the young dancers. They were rhythmic and aware of the impact they were having on their audience as they leapt into the air, or hunted the elusive antelope. The girls were modest and alluring in their trained choreography. The music, the people singing, and the overflowing happiness of the international team, was contagious. Myrna could smell perfume of the plumeria wafting over the celebration. She did not dare to look at the diary that had held so many conflicting thoughts about herself, her Uncle Dodge, and the marriage suitor. Over time, everything had worked out. She had been able to use her education to love her husband, and produce children who cared about others and themselves. She had stopped worrying what her family thought of her marriage, and realized each of them had hurdles to overcome in their own lives.

  Other girls would benefit from her attendance at the all boys’ school. Even her pain at the death of her Lily was gone.” All is Well’ was the good word that floated into her mind as she swayed to the music that glorious December day, just fifty years after she had arrived in Copperfine, a new bride of 14, with her husband Festal, and they started their life together.

  Rose excused herself to leave while the dancing was still in progress. She knew little of her mother’s time in the secondary school. But she knew if a tutor from England was impressed enough by a student to create an endowment—that was something. It made Rose want to know more about her mother’s history. She was intrigued by the writings Beautiful had done. This endowment would bring students and funding to their area. She would report all of what she had learned to her husband Henley, who took such an interest in this small community. There would be photos to share with her work mates at the ministry, many of whom would have seen the pictures in the news.

  Another celebration would follow when her mother returned to visit Grandmother Beatrice and the remaining family in Blancville. Violet gathered her purse and her grandchild and followed Myrna towards the waiting car. They were going to have dinner together then head back to the house. Festal would be driven back to the house and dropped off by Royal, after insisting that he wanted to have some time alone and that they should and enjoy their dinner without him. Festal kissed Myrna and told her not to hurry. She had a lot of catching up to do.

  Violet wanted to get Myrna’s opinions on what to do with the extensive art collection of Bwalya’s. His widow Karin had expected to be able to advise her, but she was now in serious condition and unable to travel or be of much use in business matters. So Violet had turned to Myrna and Festal. They had spent some time thinking about the paintings and how they might best be marketed. The decision was to open a gallery, a gift shop, and a coffee place in Blancville, and have the girls run it, with the help of Royal. Violet was also concerned about the business that Joseph had left her. The women
and Festal advised her to get Rose’s husband who was an attorney to review the situation. At dinner, they chatted about the trip to Holland and the changes that were taking place in their family.

  After the ceremony was over, Rose went back to her husband to report on the event, while Royal drove his father back to the rondavel. Festal changed his clothes, then went down to feed the calves while Royal drove back to town to pick up the family.

  CHAPTER 46

  INDEPENDENCE

  Festal looked down the long drive leading to his calving pens. Each year, as his family grew and the number of cattle increased, he had extended the distance from his house to the corrals where the youngest of his calves were kept. Each of his children had taken turns naming the animals. From the first time he had led his new bride to the small brush corral where orphaned calves bedded down, Festal had been touched by the tenderness of young girls towards the small animals.

  He first felt affection for Myrna when he saw how she stroked the sides of the calves’ faces and wanted to brush them free of the mud that stuck to their sides. He felt like he was being stroked. When Myrna had been gentle with the bar girl he brought home to help with the household chores, he had seen a new possibility in the girl. His bitterness at being outmaneuvered by Dodge had subsided. Festal had never talked to Myrna about what her dreams or expectations had been. Today, he saw some of them coming true. Respect.

  His women had come up with the idea of the women’s co-op, which had transformed the climate of the village. Neighbors began to treat each other with kindness. He had grown old here in comfort. His daughters brought him joy. His sons became pastors and formed a community church that reached out to the orphans and the widows. He saw the village chief praise his family and a school founded in Copperfine because his wife had been a scholar and earned the respect of her tutor. His name, Phiri, was part of the title for the academy. Festal had won over his sister–in-law and her husband by his faithful care of his family, and the values he passed on to them. He was humbled by the survival of his children when so many had been taken. His daughter Rose was a college graduate and all of his girls had developed into fine women who were skilled in different ways.

  Whenny was a blessing to her grandchildren. The fact that he was the one who could help her, was a miracle of God’s grace. He could not think of anything he would change or want as he watched the calves line up for their milk in the tidy calf pen. In the heat of the late afternoon sun, he felt his life was sweet. He lay down to rest a bit before going up the hill to the house he had built. The grass was fragrant in his face as his calves nuzzled him, and he saw the slow cloud of darkness open and light appear. His body felt nothing but peacefulness and release. He had been a man.

  The sons, along with their mothers, continued to minister to the women in the community until the academy for girls was built. Myrna and Gift then moved to Blancville to join Violet in caring for her grandchild and opening the Impala Gallery and Gift House. A coffee shop run by Royal was built adjacent to it, with fresh Danish daily. A new chapter had opened in their lives with expected visitors from Holland, new clients, and a closer family bond, even as Festal’s life closed with a sigh of contentment—that he been loved, and was no longer afraid.

  177

  The Bride Price

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Suzanne Popp was born into a large military family that traveled across the United States in her early childhood. She was raised in the country and has a love of rural life. When her brothers went to Vietnam, she and her husband Ken went to the Peace Corps following graduation from college. In West Africa, she taught English and African literature at a Post Secondary Teachers Training College in the Brong-Ahafo Region of Ghana which borders the Ivory Coast. Students ranged in age from 18 to 45 years of age. Some were working to become certified after years of pupil teaching, while others wanted to gain entry into the university and were working on the ‘A’ level exams. During the vacation periods, she traveled over 16,000 miles overland in Central, East and Northern Africa by native transport, and witnessed the rapid change of governments from colonial occupation to independence. As a woman, she gained admittance into the households of young wives and mothers of all beliefs; she shared in their joy and their hardships, and listened as they poured out their dreams of a better future to her.

  Suzanne has returned to Africa many times, and been actively involved in the education of girls and vulnerable children, as well as building homes for those in need through work with VillageSteps, the charity founded by her family for the education of orphans and vulnerable children, especially girls, and Global Village, the international branch of Habitat for Humanity. Suzanne is a mother, a grandmother, and an advocate for literacy and humanity in emerging countries as well as locally. At home on her horse farm in Enumclaw, Washington, she writes, is active in the arts, and serves as Director of VillageSteps, the charity founded by her family. This is her first novel, and she hopes you will find it encouraging and let her know how it affects you.

  177

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER 1 CHRISTMAS BREAK

  CHAPTER 2 ANNOUNCEMENT OF PROPOSAL

  CHAPTER 3 THE WEDDING OF MYRNA AND FESTAL

  CHAPTER 4 IN THE MARKET

  CHAPTER 5 ALL IS WELL

  CHAPTER 6 VIOLET MEETS HER MAN

  CHAPTER 7 JOSEPH’S HISTORY

  CHAPTER 8 JOSEPH VISITS CHITUNDUS

  CHAPTER 9 WELLINGTON TAYLOR VISITS CHITUNDUS

  CHAPTER 10 BEATRICE TELLS BISHOP ABOUT JOSEPH

  CHAPTER 11 LETTERS AND INVITATIONS

  CHAPTER 12 LETTER FROM VIOLET

  CHAPTER 13 ENVY

  CHAPTER 14 HOSPITALITY

  CHAPTER 15 THE CATTLE STATION

  CHAPTER 16 PLAYFUL

  CHAPTER 17 THE HONEYMOONERS

  CHAPTER 18 JOSEPH, VIOLET, STEPHEN, ESTHER, DODGE AT BEATRICE’S

  CHAPTER 19 WEDDING OF JOSEPH AND VIOLET

  CHAPTER 20 Birth of Lily Wonder

  CHAPTER 21 GROWING

  CHAPTER 22 FESTAL VISITS FETISH PRIEST

  CHAPTER 23 LILY IS LATE

  CHAPTER 24 TWINS

  CHAPTER 25 DODGE PRICES GIFT

  CHAPTER 26 GIFT MARRIES FESTAL

  CHAPTER 27 GIFT DELIVERS

  CHAPTER 28 UNDER THE MANGO TREE

  CHAPTER 29 MYRNA AND FESTAL VISIT JOSEPH AND VIOLET

  CHAPTER 30 COUNTRY COUSINS

  CHAPTER 31 VIOLET AND JOSEPH PROSPER

  CHAPTER 32 GRADUATION

  CHAPTER 33 DODGE’S INQUIRY

  CHAPTER 34 THE THINS

  CHAPTER 35 KARIN PREPARES TO RETURN TO HOLLAND

  CHAPTER 36 PREPARATION TO LEAVE

  CHAPTER 37 HOLLAND

  CHAPTER 38 VIOLET FLIES TO HOLLAND

  Chapter 39 Kindness

  CHAPTER 40 ROSE

  CHAPTER 41 LIVING WATERS

  CHAPTER 42 SAMUEL AND REUBEN MARRIED

  CHAPTER 43 BABY ROSE

  CHAPTER 44 THE STILL

  CHAPTER 45 MYRNA AND THE ENDOWMENT

  CHAPTER 46 INDEPENDENCE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

 


‹ Prev