On a Saturday evening, the air in Shiro's cramped single room felt heavy with unspoken tension. Shiro's mother lounged on a shabby couch that once might have been white but now wore a faded, tattered brown disguise. Her gaze was distant, lost in her thoughts, as the dim light of their single room home flickered around them.
Shiro, a sixteen-year-old girl with dreams tucked away beneath her innocence, lay curled up on her bed, oblivious to her mother's brewing concern. This cramped space served not just as a bedroom but as a kitchen and a guest room too, a makeshift world where privacy had become luxury.
"Mum, can we talk about this?" Shiro thought silently as her mother suddenly broke the stillness, pressing her with an unexpected question that made Shiro squirm. She hesitated, trying to brush it off, but her mother's insistence felt like a heavy hangover in the air.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" her mother asked, the words hanging heavy in the air.
A wave of sadness washed over Shiro, threatening to bring her down. She summoned a smile, but it felt weak and unconvincing against the relentless gaze of her mother. Since childhood, Shiro had never entertained the idea of dating. Her dreams were painted in deeper hues, the vision of studying hard and eventually dedicating herself to a life as a nun. People often misconstrued her plans, labelling her as proud or disdainful of romantic relationships, a label that pressed down on her like a weight she couldn't shake.
This meant that Shiro would spend the rest of her life in the church serving God. If her ambition came to pass, then a boyfriend or a husband would be a forbidden thing for her.
Shiro locked eyes with her mother, her heart racing as she tried to articulate the swirling thoughts in her mind. She was still too young for this conversation, yet her mother's strict demeanor left no room for defiance. There was no escaping the question that hung in the air, heavy and charged.
"It is a simple yes or no question," her mother pressed, her frustration boiling over. She felt a surge of indignation; how could she understand when her mother's expectations felt so out of reach? Reluctantly, under the weight of her mother's gaze, she finally whispered, "I haven't ever thought of having a boyfriend."
"Are you okay?" her mother shot back, her voice thick with urgency. "You are a young woman now, and you need to experience love-love of a romantic kind!" The intensity of her mother's gaze pierced through Shiro, making her stomach churn.
Tears welled Shiro's eyes as panic gripped her heart, making it pound like a drum. "But ... but... Mum! No!" She struggled to articulate her dreams; a dream of serving God, of a life devoted to spirituality and celibacy, as her faith dictated.
"Sweetheart, you need to find yourself a rich boyfriend," her mother insisted, her voice rising with desperation. "We can't live in poverty forever!" The stress was palpable, and Shiro couldn't shake the feeling that one wrong move could set her mother off completely.
Silently, she nodded, knowing it was safer to comply than to argue, though her heart simmered with frustration. "We need to plan: with the right move, we can become wealthy," her mother continued, a hint of fever creeping into the voice. Shiro felt a knot tighten in her chest; her mother envisioned her as an investment, a means to escape their struggles.
"Look at you! You're the most beautiful girl in the village. Trust me, the men will be clamoring for you," her mother declared, forcing the reluctant conversation onward. Shiro's resolve crumbled; tears streamed down her cheeks as she felt like a pawn in a game she never wanted to play.
"Stand up, turn around, her mother commanded. Shiro, feeling exposed and defeated, obeyed. She was undeniably beautiful - her curves, rich brown skin, and sparkling eyes could captivate anyone. But what did it matter if her own mother saw her only as a prize?
The forced smile on Shiro's face faded as bitterness took root. Could a true mother really offer her daughter to lustful men as if she were nothing more than a transaction? Whispered rumors swirled around her concerning her adoption; she was the only brown-skinned child in a house of deep ebony. Doubts crept in, each whisper feeding the confusion about her identity.
"Shaz!" her mother called, summoning her older sister. Shaz rushed over, intrigued but oblivious to the storm brewing around them.
"I need both of you to listen carefully," their mother instructed. We're going to trick our neighbor's son into getting one of you pregnant. If we play this right, we'll win a legal battle and come out rich!"
To Shiro's dismay, Shaz didn't flinch at the notion; she nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Relief washed over Shiro - if her sister was the one undertaking this dangerous game, maybe she could stay in the shadows.
"But if he doesn't like you, Shaz, I'm sure he wouldn't pass up the chance with Shiro," their mother added, her words like a slap. Why must she always be drawn back into this?
Days turned into a blur- Shaz worked her charms and finally caught the attention of Dan, the neighbor's son. A part of Shiro felt a twinge of guilt, but mostly, she felt relief, knowing she was not the target.
But one evening, as she felt the telltale pang of the ovulation and the familiar ache of impending menstruation, she knew she needed to prepare. She shuffled to her corner of the room and retrieved her pads, preferring Soft Care over Always, and positioned them carefully.
Now, ready to face whatever challenge lay ahead, she slipped into her nightdress and crawled into bed. Besides her, Shaz was lost on the phone, her finger dancing across
oss the screen.