Tale of an African Woman

Chapter Eight

40 8 here was no more excuse to deny her a land grant. The Tabih cut out a large, fertile piece of land along an old river valley as her farm. She felt she needed a larger barn and so immediately set about constructing one for herself. When it was complete, it turned out to be one of the biggest. “What a woman who believes only in very big things!” a jealous voice cursed. She then began work on the land immediately. She cleared and stacked grass in huge compost which she would later use to fertilize the soil. Her mother kept telling her what a great farmer her father had been and she planned to emulate his example. She was the first to get up everyday and head to the field. By the time the sun rose, sending its fiery rays all across the land and forcing many farmers to scamper for cover in the shades of trees, she had already taken advantage of the morning cold to do a lot of work. Finally, the planting season came. She selected very good seeds and sowed them. With the first rains, the seeds began to sprout, attracting birds and wild animals. As she was still childless, she took up the task of going to the field and staying all day to drive away the marauders. It was a boring and time-consuming exercise but she held out until the tiny seeds had grown into sturdy shrubs. It was now time to weed. Unwanted plants which choked crops and deprived them of nutrients had to be uprooted. Crops often ended up stunted and even fruitless if this important exercise was ignored. It often went hand in hand with mulching, softening the soil and burying uprooted grass to increase its fertility and reduce its loss of water. Her corn responded to this care, developing thick stems and healthy fruits. Her peanuts spread out their broad, lush and T 41 green leaves and the whole farm took on the complexion of a vast sea of green. Her diligence provided fodder for fresh rumors in the village. “She wants to show that she’s hardworking and tireless,” some women lashed out at her. Everyone could already see the bright prospects her field held out. Her corn had developed fully into long huge cones by the time they started to ripen. Her harvest was so enormous that she had an extra granary constructed. “She doesn’t want to get married. That way she continues to get all the men to assist her with her work,” a couple complained, having failed to haul in as much as Yaa. These rumors got to her and sometimes hurt her. She was aware of her beauty, diligence and wealth. But in spite of this, only three men, a thief, a lunatic and a beggar, had walked up to her to ask for her hand. “She thinks she’s better than men,” some villagers complained. “She’s too big to occupy the same house with any man,” others derided. These complaints and criticisms reached her mother. She had lived them herself and knew they had no basis. She felt particularly wounded because she was already old and was eager to see her grandchildren before her passing. She had lived with her daughter ever since she was young and understood her well. Her tough outward appearance concealed a soft inside most men were not even prepared to try to discover. She could tell her daughter was really bleeding inside from all these remarks. “You see, as a woman there’s a big price to pay for success,” she told her as she clasped her to comfort her when she noticed she was very worried. “I had worked all my life for this because I thought I could share it with someone and now look at me, already numerous moons and growing gray, with neither a husband nor a child of my own,” she told her mother amid her tears. “Never mind my child. If that’s the price to be paid for excellence and independence, then somebody has to do it. I know 42 how hard it is for a woman to be buried with a stone in the midst of sturdy and active men. It was the plight reserved for me until you came into my life. It seemed our ancestors had accepted my sacrifices.” Yaa knew the...