Unfortunately things ended in a rough way- I had to watch my best friend Kadija forced into marriage and leave the village just a few days before I left. Kadija is a woman I call my sister, literally we don't use each others names she just calls me Ay Kayna(my younger sister) and I call her Ay beero(my older sister). She's in her mid-thirties and didn't want to get married- her dad was forcing her and her new husband is about 65 years old. So on a Thursday night Kadija was uncontrollably sobbing as they loaded all her stuff up and took her away on 2 donkey carts. The worst part was ending our two years of friendship knowing she didn't want to leave the village...
My last day in the village was Tuesday, so all day villagers were coming to tell me "bye-bye" and just hang out for the last time.
"How could you leave us, Kadija? You've been with us for two years, you sat with us, chatted with us, joked with us, raised our kids. We will never forget you."
"You're leaving us now? We got used to you, you are our people, our family. It's just not fair."
"When you leave we will miss you, Kadija. You need to stay, two more years. We'll build you a bigger house. We'll marry you off to a village man."
To my village women, I told them that I would be going home to get married, to look for a husband. And when I come back it will be with my new husband. I told them though if i don't get a good husband, a good lucking husband, I won't be back to show him. So they all blessed me, "May God show you a good husband!" One of my friends even gave me great advice: "You need to get fatter. So when you go home, in only two days you'll get a husband!" Well, I won't be following the advice anytime soon....I was hoping they'd learned something from me in the past year....
My last night in the village I hung out with Katumie, one of my closest friends, and helped her fry up the meat from the Tabaski celebration that was just ending. We chatted for hours, then i finally asked her why she didn't braid or get her feet henna'd for the holiday. She said her heart had been so broken about me leaving that she didn't do anything, she didn't even get her fabric sewn for her new outfit. But didn't her husband ask her why? She told me that she'd been telling him for days that she was sick. At night time she came over my house after we had been chatting for a while and she gave me her ring that was on her finger and told me "You've given me so much, I will always remember you. I want you to have my ring. You can never forget me." We both started crying and just sat for a little bit together then she went back to her house....
The next morning I woke up and when I opened my door about 9-10 of my women from my concession were coming in and out of my house to greet me. It was sweet- they just sat around for the last time as i was packing up. I was holding in all my tears as I was rushing around cleaning up and giving stuff out for the last time. I gave my house one last check, closed my door and said "A ban" meaning, "it's all finished". When i turned around, nearly all the women in my house were crying. I didn't expect it, and all of a sudden tears were just flowing from my eyes. I shook each of their hands, they blessed me with "May God show us each other" and they walked me to the edge of the village. As I was getting closer to the river a younger girl told me to stop, Katumie is coming to walk me out. She had to sneak away from her husband by pretending to go to the river to get water. She walked with me for about 40 minutes, both of us crying, without tissues, thus blowing snot rockets the entire way. Finally I got into the boat and waved to her from the river and I was out.
As much as i wanted my goodbyes to end there, the next village I got to was the village Kadija just got married into. So I searched out Kadija's new house. It was so cute- she was so excited to see me when i walked in. She brought me into her new house and showed me around, shining in her new Tabaski outfit. All of a sudden I started crying, and then she started crying. Finally she walked me to the edge of the village and I was in a boat for the last time on the River Niger, then took my last bush taxi ride and headed to Niamey.
And there it is, 2 years in the African bush in the middle of nowhere. It's crazy to leave this continent tonight not really knowing when I'm coming back. But one things for sure, I'll be back sooner than later. Now it's time to start my repatriation plan to America. As the Zarma's say, Kala Alomar- "until a long time......."
Our stage COS picture, minus a few...
