Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)
“You know what that is?” the vendor asks, dusting his hands on a faded T-shirt sporting two small holes on the shoulder and a larger one on the sleeve.
“Nyaminyami,” I say, caressing the beautiful charm between my fingers.
“You’ve been here before.”
“A long time ago.”
“Do you know the legend?” he asks with a toothless smile.
“That anything that drops into the river is an offering to appease Nyaminyami.”
That’s what our guide had said when my mom’s sunglasses had fallen into the water. According to the legend, Nyaminyami and his wife are the god and goddess of the underworld. They live in the Zambezi River in the Kariba Gorge and control life in and on the water.
When the Kariba Dam was built, it split the river in two, separating Nyaminyami and his wife. This made Nyaminyami very angry. He created accidents to stop the people from building the dam. Although a lot of workers died in these accidents, they continued to construct the great dam of Kariba, thereby keeping him from his wife forever.
He punished the people with floods that killed many. Since the dam was built, the flooding never stopped. Soon after, the earthquakes started. The pressure of the water adds to tectonic strain, causing regular, small tremors. The locals believe Nyaminyami uses these earthquakes to break down the wall in order to reach his wife. It’s a very sad story of a very powerful love. I’ve always been fascinated by legends, and I find this one especially beautiful.
The vendor glances in the direction of the river, even if it’s too far to see the falls from here. “To appease him, we give him sacrifices, but Nyaminyami is still angry. He won’t stop until the big wall is gone and he’s reunited with his wife. Until then, we’ll suffer famine, flooding, and earthquakes. Nyaminyami will punish the people until they listen.”
He smiles slyly. “Do you know why a body is never found when a man falls into the river?”
It’s probably because the crocodiles eat them, but I’m enraptured. “Why?”
“Because Nyaminyami keeps them in the underworld of the water for all eternity.”
“What kind of sacrifices do you make?”
“We once gave Nyaminyami a black calf. In return, he gave us some of the bodies of the men who were killed during the building of the dam. But Nyaminyami isn’t interested in our material offerings any longer. Until he gets back his wife, he wants our souls.”
I swing the pendant from side to side. The detail is truly exquisite. The god’s expression is narrow-eyed, watchful, and dangerous. The masculinity and power of the river god reminds me of Ian, but unlike Nyaminyami, Ian is very much interested in material gain. I suppose that makes him closer to a devil than a god, but I’ve always thought there’s a fine line between the two. Devils can be kind, and gods can be cruel.
“How much?” I ask, testing the string to make sure it’s long enough to fit around Ian’s neck.
“Fifty,” he says. “Give me seventy, and I’ll give you two for the price of one.”
He takes a similar string with a smaller, white Nyaminyami carved from bone from under the table and drapes it over my hand. The two necklaces hang side by side, one small and the other big, one white and the other black. Female and male. Husband and wife. They look like they belong together, like they were made for each other. Inseparable. No dam should ever keep them apart.
Digging through my bag, I find my purse and hand the vendor a couple of bills. “I’ll pay two hundred.” He needs the money.
He grips his elbow with one hand and takes the money with the other. “I hope they’ll bring you luck.”
“I hope so too,” I say, dropping the necklaces into my bag.
Shona comes over to say they’re ready to go. We’ve spent an hour at the market, plus an hour of traveling. It’s close to five when I pull up in a billow of dust at the lodge. I’m dusty from the gravel road. My face, arms, and legs are covered in a thin layer of red sand, and my hair is matted from the wind. I have a warm glow from too much sun on my cheeks, but I haven’t felt this free in a long time, not even when I was living in my apartment in Rustenburg. Not since the farm.
Banga carries the basket to the kitchen. Shona follows, shouting at him not to drop the basket and bruise the mangos. We don’t really need the fruit, although a fruit salad for dessert would be nice. I think Shona just thought up an excuse to let me drive to town. I’m eternally grateful to her. The pleaser in me wants Ian to trust me. I want to win my freedom at all costs. The idea of living with him has grown on me, and I’m starting to see how there’s no other option. Not really. I’m falling for him. Despite what he is and what he does for a living, I’m losing my heart to him. I’m giving my heart to a criminal, and because of who I am and how I’m wired, I only get to give my heart away once. Like Nyaminyami loves his wife, I’ll love him forever. My heart won’t give me another choice. It may be the weakest organ in my body, but it has always had the strongest will. That’s what fighting does. It makes you strong.