Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor Read Free Book Online Page A

the only thing that will secure this bond tonight.”
    “Who?” the Ada asked for the third time.
    Binta sunk to the floor and leaned her head against one of the women’s thighs, “My father.”
    Luyu, Diti, and I gasped. The other women didn’t seem surprised at all.
    “Was there intercourse?” Nana the Wise asked, her face hardened.
    “Yes,” Binta whispered.
    Several of the women cursed and sucked their teeth and muttered angrily. I shut my eyes and rubbed my temples. Binta’s pain was like my mother’s.
    “How often?” Nana the Wise asked.
    “Many times,” Binta said, her voice growing stronger. Then she blurted, “I-I-I want to kill him.” Then she clapped her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry!” she said, her words muffled by her hands.
    Nana the Wise removed Binta’s hands. “You’re safe here,” she said. She looked disgusted and shook her head, “Now we can finally do something about it.”
    In fact, this group of women had known of Binta’s father’s behavior for a while. They were powerless to intervene until Binta went through her Eleventh Rite.
    Binta vigorously shook her head. “No. They will take him away and . . .”
    The women hissed and sucked their teeth. “Don’t worry,” Nana the Wise said. “We’ll protect you and your happiness.”
    “My mother won’t . . .”
    “Shhh,” Nana the Wise said. “You may still be a child but after tonight you’ll also be an adult. Your words will finally matter.”
    The Ada and Nana the Wise barely glanced my way. No questions for me.
    “Today,” the Ada said to us all. “You’ll become child and adult. You will be powerless and powerful. You will be ignored and heard. Do you accept?”
    “Yes,” we all said.
    “You are not to scream,” the healer said.
    “You are not to kick,” the seamstress said.
    “You are to bleed,” the architect said.
    “Ani is great,” my great-aunt said.
    “You have already taken the first step into adulthood by leaving your homes and entering the dangerous night alone,” the Ada said. “You’ll each get a small sack of herbs, gauze, iodine, and body salts. You’ll return home alone. In three nights, you’re to take a long bath.”
    We were told to remove our clothing and handed pieces of red cloth to wrap around ourselves. Our tops would be taken to the back and burned. We’d each be given a new white shirt and veil, the symbols of our new adulthood. We were to wear our rapas home; they were symbols of our childhood.
    Binta was first, her rite most urgent. Then Luyu, Diti, and then me. A red cloth was spread on the floor. Binta started crying again as she lay on it, her head on the red pillow. The lights were turned on which made what was about to happen that much scarier. What am I doing ? I thought, watching Binta. This is crazy! I don’t have to do this! I should just run out the door, run home, slip into my bed, and pretend this never happened. I took a step towards the door. I knew it wouldn’t be locked. The rite was a girl’s choice. Only in the past had girls been forced to do it. I took another step. No one was watching. All eyes were on Binta.
    The room was warm and outside was like any other night. My parents were sleeping, as if it were any other night. But Binta was lying on a red cloth, her legs held apart by the healer and the architect. The Ada disinfected the scalpel and then heated it over a flame. She let it cool. Healers usually use a laserknife for surgery. They make the cleanest cuts and can instantly cauterize when necessary. I briefly wondered why the Ada was using a primitive scalpel instead.
    “Hold your breath,” the Ada said. “Don’t scream.”
    Before Binta could finish taking in her breath, the Ada took the scalpel to her. She went for a small perturbing bit of dark rosy flesh near to top of Binta’s yeye . When the scalpel sliced it, blood spurted. My stomach lurched. Binta didn’t scream but she bit down on her lip so hard that blood dribbled from