Once Upon A Prostitute

CHAPTER 23 - FISHERS AND HUNTERS

Mina's POV

Growing up, I got scared of the water. It wasn’t because I couldn’t swim. I come from a village surrounded by water so it was expected that I learned to swim at a very tender age. There were communities in my hometown that could only be accessed via boats or canoes. On our numerous journeys from Port Harcourt to Opobo, we had to travel half of the journey in speed boats. After travelling on the open seas for some time, we'd begin to branch off into creeks and waterways so numerous and winding that they became confusing. I often wondered how the boat drivers knew just which turns to take. I have crossed those creeks a hundred times and will still get lost by myself.

In my village, no one really teaches anyone to swim, you just flap your limbs, and gulp a lot of dirty water, until you master how to move and float. When we were little and my mother was alive, she will often instruct my brother to watch me whenever we went to swim. She knew I was eager to learn like the other kids. If we were fully resident in the village, I would have learned a long time ago.

He neither had the time nor patience to watch me, and would ignore me to dive with his friends into the deeper ends of the stream from the rock beside it. I saw kids my age floating and flapping around, playing and racing each other in the water. Their playful taunts that I was a weak city girl made me even more determined to learn. So I flapped my limbs like them and gulped atleast a gallon of water in total, but eventually I learned.

We stayed in the shallow depths. The grownups always warned us of the strong currents in the deep ends that led into the river. They told scary stories to keep us obedient. We heard of crocodiles, water snakes and even mamywater which was the local term for mermaids. The stories worked on most of us, but there were always those curious and stubborn children who felt the shallow end was beneath them. Like Tekena and his friends

I think I was eight years old when it happened. Ipalibo got carried away by the water. I remember how Tekana and his friends ran out of the water with panic-stricken faces. When Ipalibo hadn’t come up for air after some time, they knew something was wrong and ran for help. The grown-ups quickly organized a search party of the best divers in the village. They didn’t find him until two days later, washed ashore the banks of the river in a nearby village. I still remember how his mother wailed loudly when they brought home the bloated body of her son. We had run out to see and I caught a glimpse before papa ordered us back inside.

After that incident, Papa banned us from going to the stream. My mother had passed away a year ago and I think the thought of losing us too scared him. I wasn’t even going to go anyways. The days afterwards were scary enough. I heard varying accounts of what must have happened to him. Some said the river goddess took his soul and returned his body. Some said a crocodile bit off his leg and he bled to death. It was all speculations from the kids since the adults were not telling us anything, but it was enough to give me nightmares. Tekena started swimming again after some months, but I couldn’t. Whenever I got close to the water, I'd see Ipalibo’s bloated face and I couldn’t go in. After a couple of years though, the memory had faded and I was splashing and racing in the water again.

I almost forgot the amazing feel of water on skin. There’s that’s feeling of rejevunation and refreshing that just soothes your muscles. But now I experience more than that. There’s this feeling of weightlessness when you float, overcoming gravity. The world is not on your shoulders anymore. You’re just free. There’s also the feeling of peace and clarity I get now. That moment when you’re submerged below the water surface, and you can’t hear the noise…or even your jumbled thoughts. It’s just quiet and peaceful.