—
Is still night. The great crocodile done eat half the moon. Sogolon jump out of the bed, for the voice that sound like hers say tonight is the night. Yes now, when the night getting old and it still deep dark. She shove the dry food into her sack, strap on the knife, and grab the cowskin to slip over her head, when they kick the door in. She can’t tell who they be, men or women, just wearing white everywhere but a slit for the eyes. Sogolon back up to the window and they fan out around her. She wave her knife, but a staff swing at her in the dark and strike her hand, making her yell and drop it. She back up more to the window, right until her bottom hit the sill. They coming in closer and saying nothing. They prefer it when you fight, the womanservant had said. Two move in and Sogolon slap one in the face and kick another before two more join in, grabbing her two hands while the third punch her two times in the belly. They let her go and she drop to the ground. Hands grab the cowskin and yank it over her head, grab at her tunic until it rip off, tie her hands with rope and drag her down the stone hall. The way she is screaming and the way they paying her no mind make Sogolon think they are deaf until one reach over and slap her mouth. A mighty one in white grab her by the waist and fling her over the right shoulder, and so it go.
The white robes take her and Emini from the palace, while a few stay back. Both she and the King Sister struggling against the ropes, thumping against the carrier’s back and trying to kick in the front, but neither act slow them down. Emini curse and grumble until a robe walk up behind her and shove a wad of cloth in her mouth. One approach Sogolon with a wad, but fall back when she quiet herself.
They take them to a moon-shaped pool waiting on rain to fill, tie their hands to longer rope, and throw them in the water. Sogolon can hear Emini screaming into the gag. Is the only thing stopping her from screaming as well. Two robes walk into the water, seize them by the head, and shove them under, making Sogolon choke. A big hand span her whole head and grip it so tight that it is no use to struggle. But struggle she do anyway. The hand hold firm and shove her deeper under water until right before she release herself to drowning when the hand pull her out. At the bank of the pool, two robes present themselves holding something Sogolon don’t know. They shove them down on the bank, one holding down their arms and two a leg each. Then the white robes scrub them so hard, Sogolon believe she bleed in the dark. Like a block of sand it was, the thing they scrub her skin with. They scrub her until her skin burn, her neck, her back, pulling her buttocks apart to scrub deep, then her breasts, her elbows, and her knees. One take two fingers to pull her koo wide, splashing it with water but staring at it, looking for it, feeling for it, and pulling out only when it get found. Sogolon know why. Most woman from the mud tribes and the hut tribes get it cut out before she reach her ten and third summer. Remove the man born within the woman, they say. But nobody from where she come from care about what Sogolon grow into. And not every mud and hut tribe cut girl, she want to scream at the robes. After the scrubbing, they rub them with oils and herbs then scrub them again. Satisfied, they drag them back into the pool and nearly drown them again.
They take them back to the palace dripping wet and naked. Sogolon count it as rare kindness that Kwash Moki don’t have the court lined up to see this sort dragging them back. The King Sister quiet, but Sogolon want to rage, at her, at them, at whoever decide to punish her because she nearby, and Mistress Komwono for bringing her here as gift. She want to rage at the wind, who only help when it see a way to make things worse. Fuck the gods. In the great hall of Emini’s palace they dress the two in white robes and for the first time one of them speak. Like a woman the voice sound, but it could also be a eunuch. Or a young man. The voice say that now that they have been washed of everything they are nothing and should wear nothing. But nakedness is not nothing, for it is how we born, and how we are when we make life, and no two nakedness is the same. But all nothingness is the same, and since you are both nothing, you should wear the color of nothing. White.
They take everything, even the beds, even the bottle of wine that Emini hide. That do it. For the first time she scream that she is a princess and King Sister and they will all be beheaded for what they do to her tonight. Her and Sogolon. The robe who sound like a eunuch walk right up to Emini and slap her twice.
“Submission!” she say.
“Who fool you that you get to command me? You think because I going to your stupid nunnery I am a nun? They send me there to get out of the King’s face, not to become one of you.”
“We won’t tell you again.”
“Or else what, you going to kill me? Hark this fool who think that because she wash my skin, she wash out my blood. I am house of Akum. My ancestors rule your ancestors.”
The robe nod at two others and they grab Emini. She laugh at them, still shouting that the gods will drop like an ocean on them for defiling royal blood.
“Submission. If you can’t see submission, we will take out your eyes. If you can’t show submission, we will cut off your hands. If you can’t hear submission, we will cut off your ears.”
One robe pull Emini’s hand behind her back while the other shove his fingers in her mouth and pull her jaws apart. Another approach her with a clamp. Emini try to scream. Sogolon jump and they grab her too. They clamp her tongue and pull.
“If you can’t speak submission . . .”
A robe approach her with a dagger. Emini struggle. Even in the dark, Sogolon can see her eyes and she cry too. The robe push the dagger across Emini’s lip, ready to slice the tongue off, when she stop and sheathe the dagger. They let her go and she collapse on the floor. Emini can’t help herself, she cry and wail. Sogolon can’t help herself, she run over and hold her.
“Make your peace with your dead life,” the robe say. “We leave tomorrow.”
* * *
—
Kwash Moki, King of great might and even greater love, retire to his chambers rather than watch his sister go. For though she goes to serve the gods, it is with no shame that he confess that to lose her to the nunnery feels like losing her to death. And how fortunate are we that he who will one day become a god shares feelings akin to the woman and man of this world. This the Okyeame tell the people in the square, from the roofs, and in the streets. Here is truth. Kwash Moki would not visit his sister, so he send the twins.
“Now that you are nun, Aunt, are you poor?” a twin say.
“We are all poor in the sight of the gods, even your father.”
“My father has lions and a chariot of gold.”
“Look like so.”
“So he is rich.”