Reclaiming What Is Mine (1)

Seated, at the back of a hut was a thin, young black boy, of about eleven years old.

He sat with his back arched, as he worked on a knife. Beside him was a beautiful black woman, whose mouth kept moving up and down as she spoke to him.

Although his eyes were fixed on the knife he was working on, he would intermittently turn to speak to her, then continue with his work. However, his face was sullen and gloomy, and his eyes were dark. he was wearing a white skirt, And his dry, bony chest, was bare and hairless.

While he sharpened his small knife, the woman spoke.

"My dear baby boy, I didn't mean to keep it a secret, I was just waiting for you to grow older.

By that time, you'll be able to make better judgment. And not make rash decisions. Promise me— Promise me now, that you'll not hate your father, now that you know the truth.

You must know that your father truly loves you. Okay." The woman's voice was frail and apologetic. As she spoke, the woman