The sound of cries echoed — coming from inside a brick house, one without plaster, revealing damp stains clinging to the walls. Any passer-by could tell it had stayed like that for many years.
The cries came from a young girl, screaming for help. Although there were people outside, no one seemed interested in following up that evening.
The beating continued until darkness fully took over. Then the noise stopped, and silence followed inside the house — as if no one had been crying moments ago.
It wasn't that nothing serious had happened, but the neighbors were already used to it. Everyone in the area knew that in Mzee Jumbe's home, not a week passed without his daughter being beaten.
Most people who heard the cry knew immediately — it was Siyawezi. A secondary-school girl to whom education meant little. She attended school only because she was pushed to; otherwise, she would have remained in the streets.
She was a beautiful girl with skin like light bronze, of medium height, neither fat nor thin, hard to classify in appearance. Her body had developed early, back in primary school, surprising many.
People said she was like a green plant sprouting in drought — blessed beyond her age, just seventeen. She was the one who received that beating so often that people stopped caring about what her parent did to her.
When night deepened, the front door of their house opened. In the faint light from neighboring homes, a girl appeared wearing a tight vest that outlined her upper body, and a kanga wrapped carefully around her waist.
She stepped down slowly from the veranda, then took a narrow path that led toward the banana grove. She walked until she reached a darker area where the nearby lights could no longer reach.
The moment she arrived there, she sensed someone behind her. Before she could react, a pair of arms wrapped around her tightly. She froze in place as fear and confusion struck her.
Her breath became heavy; she felt warmth close to her neck, sending a strange, shivering sensation through her body — something between fear and surrender. She found herself leaning against that person's chest, her breathing uneven as emotions mixed within her.
"Jamani..." she whispered softly through her nose, her voice trembling.
The person behind her held her close, their presence strong and insistent. For a moment she wanted to pull away — yet something deep inside made her stay still. Her thoughts became clouded; her body trembled, not knowing whether from fear, weakness, or the heavy pull of forbidden desire.
She tried to speak but words failed her. The world around them grew quieter, only their breaths could be heard.
In that uncertain darkness, time seemed to stop. Siyawezi could no longer tell what was happening — only that she felt herself drawn into something she did not fully understand. Her mind floated between resistance and surrender.
Then silence.
Moments passed before she slowly stepped back, trembling, her chest rising and falling with heavy breath. She looked toward the path she had come from but could see nothing clearly. The night had swallowed everything.
She turned and walked away quietly, her thoughts tangled, heart pounding fast — not knowing whether what had just happened was a dream, a warning, or the beginning of something that would change her life forever.