The air was midway between warm and cold as if it was not sure which to embrace. The night creatures had started their call and response routines.
It was her responsibility these days to round up her five brothers from the playground, neighbor’s house, market square, mango clusters, stream or wherever else their mischief had drawn them to over the day. That night, she had weirdly had little trouble getting them home. They had all been splashing in the stream, their voices loud and clear over miles.
Sike was the first of six children in a polygamous family of two wives. Their father was proud of his sons but more of his only daughter who had proven herself more than resourceful around the home and community. She had started sewing clothes from the leftover materials her mum had and using her sewing machine. People testified of her gift and professional touch. She rarely had to make adjustments to her creations.
“Gifted hands”, that’s what they called her. She could work with new materials and also make old ones come out looking as good as new. No one knew how it would happen but it was a persistent dream that her gift would one day bring the little village of Kiriun into the limelight. This belief and hope in this one female were a rarity. Many people were still stuck in the archaic belief that a male child was the purest blessing from the gods and an affirmation of favor with them.
“Sometimes, even the gods find no male body worthy of certain destinies… Sike is different.”
When she got pregnant for the village madman, no one had any more wise words.
