THE STRUGGLES AND SORROWS OF AN AFRICAN GIRL CHILD CHAPTER 6 As we sat in silence, Father's anger seemed to simmer just below the surface. Suddenly, he erupted, out of no way, his voice booming through the hut. "You think you can disobey me?" he thundered, his eyes fixed on Mother. "You think you can encourage her to defy me?" Before we could react, Father dragged Mother out of the hut, his grip merciless. I tried to intervene, but he pushed me back, his hand connecting with my cheek. Nomalanga screamed as Father's fists rained down on Mother, her body crumpling under the blows. I launched myself at Father, trying to stop him, but he was too strong. He beat me too, his blows sending me crashing to the ground. Nomalanga cowered in the corner, her eyes wide with fear. The sound of Mother's cries and Father's angry bellows filled the air. Finally, Father's rage spent itself, and he stood over us, his chest heaving with exertion. Mother lay motionless on the ground, her body battered and bruised. I stumbled to my feet, my own body aching from the blows I'd received. I knelt beside Mother, trying to comfort her, but she pushed me away, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and determination. "I'm sorry, Gugu," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." I held her close, tears streaming down my face. "It's not your fault, Mother," I whispered back. "We'll get through this together." But as I looked up at Father's angry face, I knew that our struggle was far from over. ********** The weight of my fate settled in as I resigned myself to the inevitable. Soon, I would be forced to marry Mr. Dlamini, a man old enough to be my father. The thought filled me with a sense of dread and despair. An hour passed, and the sound of Father's booming voice pierced the air. "MaMpala, bring the axe and a knife!" he yelled, his tone sending a shiver down my spine. When Mother heard Father's call, she scurried around frantically, her eyes wide with fear. I had no idea what Father had in store for her, but her behavior was a stark reminder of the terror that lived within these walls. As the hours ticked by, the aroma of freshly slaughtered meat wafted through the air, and our kitchen hut was filled with the promise of a rare feast. Everyone was busy preparing the meal, except Father, who stood outside, tending to the cattle with a sense of pride and ownership that made my heart ache. Mr. Dlamini and Vusa had already left, their departure a stark reminder of the fate that awaited me. We cooked the meat in a large pot, the savory smell filling our senses and momentarily distracting us from the weight of our reality. It wasn't quite dark when everything was ready, and we gathered around to eat like it was our last meal. I forced a smile, trying to find some joy in the simple pleasure of food, but it was hard to shake off the feeling of sadness that had settled in my heart. Nomalanga and Mother seemed to enjoy their food, their faces lit up with a fleeting sense of happiness. The only sound was the clattering of their teeth as they ate, a stark contrast to the silence that usually filled our home. After we satisfied our hunger, Father cleared his throat and spoke, his voice dripping with a sense of finality. "It's good to see everyone enjoyed the food today. I give thanks to you, Gugu." I looked down, my eyes welling up with tears. "But... I didn't do anything," I mumbled, feeling a sense of injustice wash over me. "Of course, you know what I'm talking about," Father said, his voice devoid of empathy. "You're not a child anymore. By the way, I forgot to tell you something important." He cleared his throat again, his words cutting deep into my soul. "Since Dlamini has paid the full dowry of 30 cows, I don't see any reason to keep you here, my daughter. I charged Dlamini 20 cows, but he added 10 cows on top. You can see how determined he is." The words felt like a knife to my heart. I knew I was nothing more than a commodity to Father, a means to an end. "You really can't wait to get rid of me, can you?" I scoffed, the bitterness and anger spilling out of me. Nomalanga and Mother gave me warning looks, cautioning me to be careful, but I didn't care. To our surprise, Father didn't react, his face a mask of indifference. Instead, he glared at me and then forced a smile, a gesture that felt like a cruel joke. For a moment, my self-esteem wasn't crushed, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the weight of my reality came crashing down on me.