THE TALES OF LIMBER.

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Limber was born into the native land of Tarka. She was the first fruit of her mother who had been substituted by another wife after 3 years of marriage without conception.

Her father like every other man in the community was a farmer and it was needful that He should get another woman who can produce children that would help him in the farm.
Limber’s mother, Yahimba was a strong woman and had a working capacity similar to ten (10) sons. Infact, the throes and the woes of her barrenness made her work harder, and perhaps was a bland to her pain. She paid little attention to the taunting looks of the second wife Shimenge, nor her usual sly comments. Shimenge, however, had taken in a week after she was married.
Once her “morning sickness” started, she stopped doing house chores, and would sit lazily in her hut complaining of everything and demanding all kinds of meals. Yahimba was instructed by her husband to stay back and wait on her, till she was strong enough to do things for herself.

Months passed by and Yahimba was still waiting on Shimenge. She had one time complained that her legs were so swollen, and that if she moved them too often, they will burst.
“Sheminge, this illness of yours, has it not lasted for too long”…..Limber’s father queried.

“Wam Nom (My husband), A man can never wear the Ikyondo I ker a To( underwear) of a woman. “What I am carrying here…she rubs her belly gently sand smiles is great”.

“Be quiet woman, is it greater than the Tor( king) of our land or his children? Did their mothers stay in their hut all through child carrying (pregnancy)?…he retorted.

Shimenge did not reply… she even didn’t dare to but she squeezed her palms together and pouted her mouth.
“You better get over this illness, Yahimba has to join me in the farm, the time for harvest is near”.
That marked Yahimba’s freedom from waiting on Shimenge. She was growing weary of her ceaseless complains.
Three years after, shimenge had given birth to two boys. Yahimba thought that Aondo( God) had created her co-wife to be a fertile ground and her, a ground of stones.

One cloudy morning, as Yahimba bent out of her hut, she felt a sharp pain in her head. She had felt dizzy the night before but she thought it was due to too much work in the farm. She had missed her period for some months, but that wasn’t strange for her. Her periods were rare. Yahimba had conclude that her “blood flow were shy of journeying through her legs”. She took a step further and felt a sharper pain on her head.

“Arrrrrrh, my head”…….. She stretched her hands and rested them on the door post for support .
By this time, she had a twitch to go back in and rest. However, she quickly recollected that the rains would soon start falling and she had not finished moulding her quarter of yam heaps. The first rain had already fallen four days earlier.
Her head was beginning to feel like an empty room, her eyes were becoming blurred. She tried to hold fast to the door but it was to no avail. She fell to the ground and her world went blank.

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Story telling is my way of letting you into my imaginations.

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