Sincerely Zanobia [Book 1]

Chapter 13

Zanobia

Three weeks, since I've spoken to Zaire. I don't really care to hear anything he has to say. He has anger issues and I don't need Eliza around him when he gets belligerent. I was afraid of him that night, he threw a vase and almost hit me with it.

He punched a few walls before that, staying with him just wasn't a good environment. I'm focusing on raising my daughter and finding my dad. I should have never trusted Zaire.. I mean Surge in the first place.

I love staying with mama April, it's been amazing. I've learned how to knit and cook lots of different things. I even taught her how to make Ethiopian cabbage, my grandmother was born and raised in Ethiopia, she traveled to Somalia which is where she married and had my mother.

I loved my grandmother, she was a very sweet woman but she was also very money hungry. Being as though we lived a pretty rough life she was willing to jump at any opportunity to gain a bit of wealth. A very handsome man around the age of thirty approached her, she had taken me with her to pick fruit.

He kept staring at me.. I was maybe nine years old at the time, he was very upfront. He told my grandmother that he wanted me. That was before he went ahead to introduce himself. He grabbed my hand and kissed it.. I grimaced because his eyes were filled with more than just a friendly sparkle.

His name was Afolabi and he wanted me, little ole Zanobia to be his wife. He was a very rich man, and his name definitely told it all.. It meant, child of high status. I'll admit he was a very beautiful man, but at nine years old I wanted to run in the fields.

The moment he mention the fact that he'd pay her, she jumped to agree. Thankfully, he wanted my father's blessing of which he did not receive. My grandmother was willing to sell me to a man for, five thousand Somali shillings, which is roughly around four dollars and seventeen cent in American money..

I hate her, till this day for letting money cloud her precious thoughts. Had I married that man I would have had my first baby, by the age of ten. He wanted me to carry and raise exactly seven of his children.

I asked him why he choose me and his answer was simple. I was young, had very plump child bearing hips, and breasts that were sure to produce quality milk for his babies. I have always been very curvy, I had rather large breasts at the age of nine.

Because of those men that would offer money to marry me I hated how I looked. That's were the hate began.. but once I came to the states things were different. Men didn't look at me with hunger in their eyes.. some of them did and it scared me.

That was until I learned that, in the states it was illegal for men to be with young girls. And I was thankful for that law, I just wanted to be child. Back in Somalia I learned to do all the things a wife should know, just never to care for the babies.

When the women would try to show me how to latch the baby on the nipple or change a diaper, I simply ran away. I wasn't interested in learning how to be a mother, I had no plans to bring life into the world or care for any young kids.

I wanted to be free and live my life, but that dream came crashing down the moment I stepped foot here in the United states..

_______

I looked down at Eliza, who was sleeping. "Gabar quruxsan" I spoke in Somali, I was calling her pretty girl. Lately I've been reminiscing about Somalia.. so I've been speaking to Eliza in my native language.

I'd like her to know the Somali language, but mostly English. I kept calling her pretty girl, and lightly tapping her cute little nose. After a while I left her alone she didn't wanna be bothered with me.

The moment I put her in the bouncer she woke up hollering. "Deganaan hoos" I laughed at myself, I sounded like one of the mother's back in Somalia.. telling Eliza to quiet down. Never in a million years did I think, I'd be caring for a child. I picked up her up and laid her on my chest.

"What did you just say to her?"

I looked up to see Kidd holding bags with diapers, wipes and milk for Eliza. I smiled at him and told him.

"I told her to quiet down"

"In what language?"

"Somali"

"That's cool, so were you born in Somalia or?"

"Yes, I was.. I came here when I was ten"

He came and handed me the bag, sitting besides me. He seemed really interested in where I'm from.

"What was it like over there?"

"It was very different.. well the little area I was from, anyway. We lived in a small hut, by we.. I mean, my mother, father, grandmother and of course me. I learned to cook, clean and find food for dinner very early. The women had to teach the girls how to be mothers and wives.. the boys learned how to do what it was men did, provide and protect their families. We slept on the floors.. we didn't have beds or even pillows. You had a blanket and that's about it. Things were stable until my mother left.. money was always an issue. Being as though my father couldn't provide like he was supposed to according to the men in our village. So once my mother left my grandmother tried to sell me to a very rich man.. my father wouldn't allow it. From there we came to the states, where we were homeless for years but we made it"

"That's really interesting, do you like being in America better?"

"I do.. it has it's perks, I liked it a lot better when I was with my dad. Even though we were homeless it was still better than having to fear, being married off with some random man"

"Wow, I couldn't imagine what that was like. I never would have thought.."

This side of Kidd is one, I never knew, he's a great listener and he's way nicer than I thought. I guess you just have to get to know him a little better before you judge him. But the first impression always sticks.. and he was rude when we first met.

"Uh.. I wanted to apologize for how I acted when we first met. What's up with you and Surge?"

"It's fine, and I left him. He has anger issues and I don't want that around my baby"

"How far did he go?"

"Punched the wall and threw a vase that almost hit me"

He touched a part of my arm that, was burned by the candle wax.. it's finally starting to regain it's normal color. "Did he do that too?"

"No.. I bumped the dresser and got burned with hot wax"

"You can tell me the truth"

"I'm telling the truth.. Surge has never put his hands on me"

He nodded and left the subject alone.. I hadn't noticed but the whole time we talked Eliza just looked at Kidd. She's always fascinated with new people, he reached over and lightly pinched her cheeks.

"She's gotten so chunky.. your doing a good job with her"

I thanked him and just stared at him.. he's so handsome, his chocolate skin intrigues me. I guess I was staring too long because he smiled at me. "How old are you?" I asked him.

"Eighteen, you?"

"Seventeen, you look so much older than that. When I first saw you, Surge told me not to bother getting to know you.. why? You two are brothers, he acted like he didn't know you when he told me about you"

He looked at me for a while, like he was debating whether or not he could trust me. I was just now noticing how light his eyes were. They held a story and I wanted to know that story, only if he was willing to tell me..