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Why I Write
When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful.
Please read my stories! If you would like to offer me feedback on my work, please click here and sign up for a free membership: https://heftynicki.Writing.com
I hope to see you there!
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Love: Reflections #635448 added February 12, 2009 at 5:36pm
Restrictions: None
Day 9 - Jess and Dayo
A pink rose symbolizes Appreciation, "Thank you", Grace, Perfect Happiness, Admiration, Gentleness, "Please Believe Me"
For Day 9, write a strictly dialogue scene between a non-believer in love and a strong believer in true love. Incorporate as many of the pink symbols in the dialogue scene. (A good idea would be to separate the two speakers with colors for each of them, though I will accept dialogue tags.)
 
“Halloooo!”
“YES, MADAM! I AM IN HERE, MADAM!”
“Ah -- Bara mo, Dayo! No, don’t get up! I see I just missed a delivery. Here, I’ll help you clean the floor. Just let me get my gloves on.”
“Bara ala! Please, Madam, do not kneel in this mess. But, I have not yet wiped the blood from the birthing table. Would Madam do that, please?”
“Of course I will. And Dayo, I thought we agreed you would call me Jess, remember? I’ve been working in this hospital for three months now. We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides, we’re practically the same age, for heaven’s sake! Where I come from, a twenty-year old like me isn’t called “Madam!”
“Pardon me, Mad--- Jess. It is not easy for me! We are taught when we are very little to respect the white people.”
“Well, I grew up being told the color of our skin doesn’t make someone better than someone else. My goodness, there’s a lot of blood! Who had her baby?”
“MOKARI Céline is resting now. She had a baby girl, thank you God.”
“What do you mean, thank God?”
“Because, Mad--- sorry! Jess, Céline is the second wife of MOKARI Pascal. It is always good when God sends a girl to the second wife. If a boy comes, he will not have an easy life. Even the girl children of the first wife will be more powerful than he. What is it, Jess? Why do you stand so still and let the blood drop back to the table you cleaned?”
“Oh, sugar! I have made another mess! It’s just that when I hear you talk about, you know, polygamy, I just… I don’t know…. I just don’t get it.”
“What do you mean, ‘get it.’?”
“Well, I don’t know. I guess I just don’t understand. In my country, a man and a woman get married because, like, they love each other so much, and want to spend their lives together in perfect happiness. I can’t imagine sharing my husband with another woman!”
“Ah, yes, the last volunteer that came here to work talked about “love.” I think of love and I think about my mama and my papa, and the ancestors. And the children I will have one day. So that word, “love,” that is not the word I use when I talk about my husband.”
“Really? But it’s just you and him, right? He doesn’t have another wife. So isn’t that because he loves you?”
“He chose me. Please believe me, I am grateful. I am the first wife. It is good for me.”
“He chose you because he loves you, right?”
“Oh, Jess, you make me laugh with your “love.” Brodene chose me because I am strong, and I am ugly—“
“Dayo! You are not ugly! Don’t say that.”
“You do not understand me. I am not a woman full of grace, though I will have gentleness with my children. I can work hard, in this hospital in the night and in the fields during the day. I will give my husband many children, and they will grow up and help in the fields, too. Brodene will sell more crops in the market, and will become richer. When he can afford it, he will take another wife. It will be good.”
“I’m sorry I’m staring at you, Dayo, but I am fascinated by what you’re saying to me! You don’t want Brodene to have a second wife, do you?”
“Oh yes, Jess, it would be very good indeed. Two women can make more children than just one. The more children working in the fields mean more money for the family, for meat, for medicine. Money will buy cloths and shoes, and new straw for the roof each dry season. It would be very good indeed…”
“Ok, but seriously, you wouldn’t be jealous?”
“Jealous? What is this, “jealous?”
“Come on! Ok, for example, when there are two wives, who does the husband – you know --- sleep with?
“That depends on who is tending the husband and who is tending the fields.”
“Go on….”
“You do not understand me? Ok, I tell you better. The field where I grow vegetables to sell in market, it is far from my house. It takes half a day to walk there. Brodene is building a small house there, next to the field. When it is planting season, and harvesting season, there is much work to do. I sleep in the field. It will be nice to have a house to sleep in. When I am home, Brodene sleeps in…..”
“Dayo, if you don’t stop laughing and talking with your hand over your mouth, I’ll never understand you! What did you say?”
“He… sleeps in my bed….. One day, when he has another wife, he will sleep in her bed when I am in the fields. When I come home, she will go to work in the fields, and I will prepare Brodene’s food, and wash his clothes, and he will sleep with me.”
“And you’ll be OKAY with that?!”
“Oh yes! I will be the first wife.”
“You said that before. Why does that matter?”
“Oh! The first wife is the most important! She is in control of the family. The second wife is taken more for pleasure, and not because she is strong. She must learn her place and she must answer to the first wife.”
“Whoa, that is a trip. So, does the husband love the second wife?”
“He has appreciation for his second wife much like a man treasures a radio or a wrist watch. Everyone has admiration for a man with two wives because they see he has wealth. So he is proud of her, but he does not love her like a parent or a child.”
“And you, Dayo, do you-- What’s that? I think I hear people coming.”
“Yes…. Madam, out the window I see a group of people on the road. They are helping a pregnant woman who can’t walk easily. Her baby is coming. It is clean here now. I will go help them bring her. Are you ready?”
“I just need a clean pair of gloves, and I’ll be ready!”
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