Zariah sat with her knees to her chest as she lay against one of her dearest friends, Nagina, an old Ebo tree. Nagina earned her name, which means grandmother, because she stood as the tallest and widest Ebo at the break of the thick jungle, which was filled with deep purple leaves that provided great shade for play during the day's heat, a diving board for the river, and fed the kids the sweetest kasha fruit that came twice a year. As she sat near the base of the wide trunk, she stared down at one of Nagina’s thickest branches, which rested its elbow on the ground, stretching out like an arm reaching across the shore to catch the moonlight above the wide Anga River.

     There she sat, contemplating her life with Nagina, until the morning light started peeking through as the Anga River lazily rolled by, licking the black pebbles and sands lining the riverbank. Suddenly, above her, she could hear a cooing sound, garnering her attention. Lifting her head, she pushed her lengthy, black, kinky, twisted hair from her face, searching for the vocalist. On a high branch, she spotted the culprit, a little Candor. She watched as the Candor fluffed its pink feathers with brown specks puffing up its chest as it sang its morning tribute to the rising of the sun. Parting her lips, she breathed deeply in the sweet smell of fresh early air.

     "What a magnificent beginning to a dreadful day," she sighed. 

     Zariah glanced down at her dark brown toes observing their contrast against the black shores as she thought about today's festivities. Slipping her sandals from her feet, she pushed her feet into the cool, damp sands beneath, as she always did when she was able to watch the sunrise with Nagina since she was young. As she wiggled her toes, her mind slowly drifted away from her troubles to better times. I miss the days when happiness was this simple.

     In those days, she played every day. Every morning before I went out, I’d tie up my hair with my favorite colorful scarf, which my mom used to wear but had given to me. Then I’d bind my then forming breast with a dull khaki sash—all in the hope of hiding that I was near the age of the blossom. For once, a girl reached the age of the blossom, all playtime ceased. Our days were then spent training in caring for children, cooking, sewing, and other mundane tasks. I was hoping to be one of the few women chosen for Aga positions who trained in various skills, such as working in a hospital or a science lab, like my mom. Whatever our training was, it wasn’t going to be anything like the adventurous possibilities of my friends Juko, Maatus, and Kwasi. As the only girl in our group and the youngest, I had to make great strides to keep up with the boys. But sometimes they had to keep up with me. A hint of a smile played on her lips as she reminisced. Every day, we either went to the Anga River or explored the jungle, pretending we were Ukas fighting to defend their clan, serving as peacekeepers, or being sent on adventures, leaving our Planet Ori to travel to distant worlds. We played all day until we noticed the pink, purple, and yellow hues across the sky. Then we’d race home before their parents called us back on our bracelets. Those days were like a wonderful dream. But like all good dreams, eventually, one had to wake up.

     That day came when Kwasi challenged everyone to see who could do the best backflip off Nagina's branch into the river.

     "You get only one jump and no do-overs," Kwasi called out as Juko climbed. I couldn't help but smile to myself as we watched Juko carefully walk down Nagina’s arm. Unbeknownst to them, I'd been practicing jumping off alone at night for a month with only the light of our two moons, Ayla and Yarga, ever since Juko told them that he heard that all Uka warriors in the Laiykan Clandom knew how to dive off the cliffs in the mountains into any body of water. From that day forward, they made time to flip off Nagina's branch into the river. I knew it was only a matter of time before a challenge would be issued to see who did the best flip off Nagina. I knew I was ready.

     "Here I go!" Juko yelled as he jumped on the branch, and it sprang him up a couple of feet in the air. He pulled his legs in and wrapped his arms tightly around them before landing squarely in the river with an undignified and enormous plop, splashing water on all of us. Zariah laughed aloud with the boys as Juko came up for air.

Maatus jumped next. "This is how it's done!" he called out. First, he bent over forward, sprang back up into his backflip, and dove smoothly into the water like a fish.

     "Oooooo!" they all exclaimed. Not wanting to be outdone, Kwasi quickly climbed onto the branch next.

     "That’s nothing, watch this!" he called. Kwasi crouched down to flip back, copying Maatus's form, but when he tried to spring up, he slipped, falling back onto Juko's head as he fell into the water.

     “That was hilarious.” Zariah chuckled aloud, remembering how pissed Juko was. Kwasi was coughing up water as he tried to get away from Juko, trying to dunk him again.

     "My turn," Zariah called out. Taking a deep crouch similar to Maatus, she steadied herself. But instead of just springing back into a flip, she jumped on the branch twice, allowing it to propel her higher in the air so she could flip high before landing gracefully in the water.

     Though muffled, their cheers could still be heard underwater as she sprang back up for air. Flicking her now-released hair backward, creating an arch of water above that followed and quickly fell behind her.

     "Now, that is how it's done!" she yelled. As she looked at the boys, still excited about her victory, she noticed they stood silent in the water, merely glaring at her. "What?" Zariah asked, confused. "What's wrong?" That was when she could hear Aunt Deana screeching at her with her younger cousin Esther in tow from the far side of the riverbank.

     "Cover yourself right now, Zariah! And get over here!" she demanded. Zariah remembered looking down at her then exposed breasts showing her then dark brown areolas, and nipples hardened from the cold, quickly snapping the front of her shirt closed. Looking to her right, she spotted the cloth that once bound her chest alongside her headwrap, drifting away. Maatus grabbed it and handed it to her.

     Once again, she couldn't help chuckling at the vision of herself half-naked and the confused look on the boys' faces.

     You'd think they didn't know I was a girl until that exact moment. Idiots. It's crazy that I can laugh about it now. I got in so much trouble. All because my breast was out. Which, honestly, isn't fair, considering none of the guys were even wearing shirts, and that was okay. But the way Aunt Deana told the story to Mom… with outrageous accusations that I had intentionally exposed myself and was a bad example for Esther.

     "I'm telling you she did it on purpose!" Aunt Deana yelled to her mother. "Even the boys were shocked."

     "She's lying," Zariah called out, instantly regretting her poorly chosen word, and dropped her head in shame.

     "Zariah!" her mother snapped, her eyes wide as she placed her hands on her hips.

Aunt Deana pierced her lips and placed her hand on her chest, dramatizing how affronted she was at Zariah’s response.

     "I mean, she's mistaken," she said softly, doing her best to calm her tone, lifting her eyes back at her mother. 

     "The boys weren't shocked because I was exposing myself to them. They knew it was an accident. My breast was bound. See!" she said, her eyes wide and pleading for understanding while holding out her soaked sash to her mother.

     "It just fell off. She's lie..." Zariah stopped herself before continuing, "mistaken."

     A sigh escaped Zariah's mother as she held out her hand to accept the cloth. Aunt Deana's brow furrowed at her sister's capitulating response.

     "Even if that was true, which I'm sure it's not, why is she out playing with the boys if her breast needs to be bound? Surely she has passed the age of the blossom if that is needed." Both women looked down at her. Zariah looked back and forth at them before casting her eyes once more to the floor.

     "Zariah," Her mother said softly, stepping closer and placing her hand under her chin, lifting her face, looking into her eyes.

     "You haven't bled, have you?"

     "I, I," she stuttered, her eyes gliding back and forth between the two women, "I was going to tell you." Her heart sank as she saw her mother's face melt into a frown while Aunt Deana took on a sinister grin.

     "And she dares call me a liar," she added as she took a position closer to her mother.

     "I love you, Zari, but if you don't get a handle on this girl, she will lead to the ruin of us all. My poor Esther's prospects will diminish as well as hers. You've catered to her whims for far too long, and look what it has brought you. Who knows how many moons she has hidden her blossom from you? Such a deceitful girl."

     Zariah wanted to focus her anger on Aunt Deana, but she couldn't overshadow the pain her deceit had caused her mother. In truth, this part is my fault.

     "It's time to start training," Her mother answered, dropping her hand. "We'll begin in two days, since I will need to prepare and alert your father and the elders. Your time at the river is done."

     And just like that, my time as a young girl was over. Though her parents forbade her from going out with the boys again, Zariah snuck down to the river to at least say goodbye. It’s not like I can get in more trouble. Hours passed as she sat under Nagina waiting for them, but they never showed up. It wasn't until she went home at night, sulking and heartbroken, that she discovered what had happened to them.

     "It’s Umbe time,” her father explained as he wiped her tears. She knew what that meant. Umbe was the rite of passage for males, and all males aged fourteen were collected by their fathers for training. Two years later, they’d return to begin working as Uko laborers or as Uka warriors. Though she somewhat reclaimed her friendship with Kwasi, who surprisingly to her returned as a Uko, he never treated her the same again. Their days of play were forever behind them. And she rarely got a glimpse of Juko and Maatus, now full-time Uka protecting their Ooloo Clandom, going on missions to Chara the unclaimed lands, or even better, other planets. Ukas! Yet another thing I couldn't do.

     The faint sound of footsteps approaching halted her ruminating. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to reclaim her memories before giving up and reopening them. Not really in the mood for company. Releasing a soft groan, Zariah picked up one of the smooth black pebbles nearby and began rubbing it between her fingers as she strove to distinguish the person as they drew nearer—definitely Kwasi. Turning the stone in her hand, she waited until he was close enough.

     "Hey, Kwasi," she said before turning towards him and giving him a weak smile, then returning her eyes to the river.

     "I thought I had you this time," Kwasi said, sitting beside her. "I'll never understand how you can do that. You didn't even check to see if it was me. Did you use your P.O.M.?"

     Zariah looked up at her P.O.M. communication device, a miniature black glass ball no bigger than a pebble that hovered silently above her head. I forgot I brought my P.O.M..

     "Go home,” she said, and the sphere zipped away. “Didn’t need to. Who else would know to find me here? Where’s your P.O.M.?” she asked. Holding the pebble firmly in her hand, she rubbed it with her thumb one last time before giving it a solid sideways flick. They watched as the pebble sailed above the sands, crossing the river halfway before it gradually lowered and sank into the water.

     “I left it home,” Kwasi said before he reached over, picked up a similar pebble, and cast it. The pebble flew above the water a clear distance shorter than her stone before it fell into the Anga River.

     "Next time, when I'm in the mood, I'll give you a real challenge," he explained.

     "You must rarely be in the mood, seeing how you've rarely beaten me," Zariah countered, tilting her head and giving him a smirk at his loss.

     “There's no honor in defeating a woman," he chuckled. "At least by losing, I look gracious."

     "That would make you the most gracious man I know." Zariah snickered before turning her focus back to her feet. "What do you want?"

     "Just wondering why you're here with old Nagina instead of getting ready for the Kusankha?" he asked, leaning back against Nagina. "I was looking everywhere for you. Most women have at least been soaking in oils or treating their hair since last night. I’m surprised your Aunt isn’t looking for you."

     "You must be kidding. She’s probably thrilled. Now she can focus all her energy on Esther. Besides, you know that stuff won’t help me," she answered, using her toes to dig deeper into the sands.

     "You don't know that. You're still highly valued. I bet you will secure your future today," Kwasi said, a half-smile ghosted across his lips, then just as quickly went away.

Zariah glanced down at the ravine her toes created by removing her feet from the grains of black sand. I’m sure I saw his tell. What is he up to?

     "Highly valued? I doubt even you believe those words," Zariah said, raising her eyes to him. "Besides, the Ekulo Council informed my aunt and uncle that this is the last year I will participate in the Kusankha if I am passed over."

     "They couldn't. There aren't enough women as it is," Kwasi said, sitting up with his eyebrows furrowed.

     "The way they figure, it would be better for me to wait for a man willing to deal with me in private than have another man have to wait for the next year since I’m the last choice," she said, resting her chin on her knee as she started scooping up sand to cover her feet. "But who would want a woman passed over three years in a row?"

     "That may be how you feel, but I still find you desirable. You're the most beautiful and intelligent woman I have ever met." He smiled and gave her a nudge. Zariah squinted her eyes at him. Ignoring his words, she turned her attention back to burying her feet.

     "You're also the best cook I know," he said, nudging her shoulder again, trying to get her to respond. "Haven't your meals always been among the first cleared at every Moons’ Day festival? I can scarcely get a taste of it."  

     Her feet now firmly planted, Zariah turned back to Kwasi.

     "I've stood for two years now refusing to kneel or promise to obey my husband at the Kusankha. And for that alone, I've been passed over every year, even with a shortage of women. So I'm sure it won't be overlooked, no matter how pretty you say I am or how perfectly I cook my food. It's my obedience they value above all. My only blessing is that technology isn’t allowed, or everyone would be replaying my shame on their P.O.M.s."

     "I know you don't like the Kusankha now, but you must admit that it is the foundation of peace between the twelve clans in Oooloo Clandom.” He raised his hands, moving them to accentuate his words. “I can't imagine living like the men in the Laiykan Clandom mountain villages. It's been over 300 years, and they're still fighting to the death to claim a woman while our peaceful system is working." Moving his face closer to her, his brow furrowed. “To the death!”

     “The corner of her mouth twitched upwards, a flicker of amusement in her eyes at his dramatics. Kwasi always got frustrated when we discussed this.

     "The way you're talking, you'd think the Ekulo Council sent you to deal with me," she said with a smirk. "If I promise to tell them you made a great effort to speak to me, will you spare me the speech?"

     Kwasi frowned at her. "I don't need the council to tell me the benefits of the Kusankha. Every woman, Uko, and even the Uka, participates as an equal if they wish to be joined. We've even abandoned our technology to make sure it's completely fair. Just to be sure that it works for everyone with no cheating."

     "Easily said when you're the one choosing."

     "Any woman can bow her head to refuse when a man stops in front of her. Everyone has a choice. And you know it."

     Zariah tilted her head at him. "Is it really a choice? If she doesn't accept his offer, another man will rarely risk asking her after someone else has been turned down in front of everyone. I have yet to see a woman say no to the first man who asks. Remember Ashata? Everyone knew that she and Jabari had hoped to marry. He was even lucky enough to have his stone pulled when it was her time to marry. But Oni asked her first, so she had to accept."

     "Come on, Zariah. That's why they suggest that we make no connections before the Kushunka in the first place. Nobody knows how it will go. That's part of what makes it fair. Besides, Oni didn't know who she was. Remember, she was wearing a mask over half her face during Hurkuro. It doesn’t mean he knew about an understanding they had, nor is it fair that he would have to honor it. Besides, aren't they happily joined with three children anyway?"

     Zariah's shoulders slumped. I hate to admit it. "They do seem very happy."

     "Exactly. The Ekulo council thought of everything," he said.

     "Have they?" Zariah asked. "Or have they simply ignored other problems? Even though I have owned this property since my parents’ death, it will belong to my husband when we are joined. If my husband dies, and I'm still alive, that property can only go to my first son. And if I have no sons, whether I have a daughter or not, the property will go to his family. They may have to let me live there, but it’s not mine. How does any of that make sense?" She threw her arms up and dropped them on her lap.

     "So that's what this is about? You would ruin our peace so that you can keep your property?"

      "It’s not the property," she said, sitting up, "I'd give it up today just for a voice. To have an active role in the decisions of my life. Instead, they prefer us women to be quiet and in the background. It's about households being held together by the silence of women. Silence and obedience can hide all manner of abuse and unhappiness."

     "Abuse and unhappiness. Come on. Women have taken their issues before the council just like men."

     "A council made of only men is hardly a worthy place to bring issues as a woman. How can a fair decision come from a group who don't find women worthy enough to be one of them?"

     "Now you're saying the Ekulo council is the problem,"  he answered, shaking his head in disapproval.

     "I'm saying I want to make my own decisions? Why is it foolish for me to desire the choice and voice you say ended the violence between men in our villages? Why can't a woman help make decisions in at least the village where they live? Her eyes burned into Kwasi's as she clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, her back now rigid.

     Kwasi gazed at her, then exhaled before he finally responded, "I’m sorry. I messed this up. I didn't come here to argue with you again or to upset you. I just wanted to tell you something. Something special.” His eyes now stared blankly at the river as he picked up a stone. “Now, I wonder… if I should." He cast the stone, and they watched as it skipped across the river until it sank.

     That's right. He sought me out. I forgot about that. Zariah calmed her facial features as she stretched out her clenched fingers.

     "What is it?" she asked.

     Kwasi turned toward her, his eyes softening, then turned away again.

     "Come on," she pleaded, her lips curved in a slanted smile as she delivered a playful jab, "you know you want to tell me."

     Kwasi glanced at her again for a moment, then looked around to see if anyone was nearby before leaning in close. Zariah quickly raised her hand to stop him.

     "No touching on Kusankha day," she said, chuckling.

     "I wasn't going to," he answered with the corner of his mouth lifting in a lopsided grin. "I just want to show you something."

     Zariah watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a white cloth. He pulled back the fabric, revealing a large, smooth black stone with his name carved into it.

     "I won a spot in the Kusankha this year."

     "For real!" Her eyes gleamed as she looked at his stone.

     "I know, right. I can barely believe it. And at twenty-three years old, too. My parents are so excited. Some men have waited until they are at least twenty-seven if they want a family."

     Zariah reached for the stone but stopped, knowing better than to break the rules by touching it. His wife would be the first woman to receive that honor. Still, this was the closest she had been to touching one other than the stone her father gave her mother.

     "I'm so happy for you!" Her eyes were wide and bright.

     "Do you really mean it?" Kwasi asked, wrapping the stone again and returning it to his pocket.

     "Are you serious? Of course, I'm happy for you. I know how long you have been waiting for a family. I won't begrudge you happiness," she said, giving him a genuine, heartfelt smile. Looking over his face, she couldn’t believe she didn’t notice that he looked more groomed than usual, but handsome as always. His mustache and beard were definitely trimmed, giving his dark brown skin a cleaner look she was used to. And his locs are shiny from having been recently oiled and twisted. I can fix that, though. A wicked grin began to pull at her lips as she dug near her feet for some mud.

     “Nice trim, but you missed your facial.” Raising her hand, she tried to put some on his face. Kwasi quickly redirected her hand away, not realizing she had gathered more in her other hand.

     “Stop playing,” he chuckled as she brought her second hand forward, smashing mud onto his cheek.

     Zariah’s jaw dropped. “Oh my goodness, I didn’t think I would be able to tag you,” as Kwasi started wiping the mud off his face with a scowl.

     “You play too much,” he complained, wiping the last remnants away.

     “I’m sorry,” she said without a hint of sincerity.

     “Oh, you will be,” he countered, pouncing toward her. Zariah tried to scoot back to get away, but fell back against ole’ Nagina’s roots, giving her nowhere to go as Kwasi leaned in and started tickling her. The air filled with rings of her laughter as she tried to deflect his hands from her sides.

     “I was trying to make,” she pleaded with glee breathlessly, “all the women want you.” Each time she tried to move out of reach, he put his hand down, tickling her.

     “Okay, okay, okay. No touching,” she called out, nearly out of breath, prompting him to stop leaning against her on the tree—finally, some fun.

     Zariah took a moment to calm her breathing, along with Kwasi, as she gazed closely into his eyes. Were his eyes always this dark? She wondered as he remained in his position, hovering over her, staring back. I don’t remember them being that dark. Kwasi began to move his face closer as she glanced at his lips. Or his lips being this full. Almost as if she were under a spell, Zariah began to reach up to his face to touch his cheek when he suddenly turned away and backed up.

     “I want to show you something else,” he said as her hand dropped back to her side.

     "What?" she answered, sitting herself up. Kwasi looked back and forth, and back again to be sure they were still alone. Once he was satisfied, he dug something out of his pocket. He unfolded a brown piece of cloth in his hand, revealing his black half-mask with intricate stitching around the eye holes.

     "Now, who's breaking the rules? We're not supposed to know who got their stone or what mask they’ll wear until tonight's unveiling. You’re being quite the rebel." She raised her eyebrow and gave him a smirk.

     "For you, I figured I’d break a couple of small ones," he said as he wrapped his mask and placed it in his pocket with his stone."

     “For me?” she said, furrowing her brows.

     “Zariah, I've always loved you. You are a wonderful woman. Even though we don't always agree, I love your mind and your spirit. And yes, this is against the rules. I'm showing you this to prove my feelings for you. I will choose you tonight if you have me."

     "Kwasi!" Zariah said as tears threatened to fall. "Are you sure?" She rolled to her knees in front of him.

     "Yes." Kwasi nodded. “Of course.” Zariah moved to embrace him when he put his hand up to stop her.

     "No touching, remember?" he said with a laugh. "Didn't you just warn me? Or should I start tickling you again?"

     "I know, I know," she said, nodding her head before repeating the mantra. "No touching until the Hurkuro."

     Kwasi smiled at her, but then abruptly became serious. "I just need you to do one thing for me."

     "Anything? What is it?" Zariah said, beaming.

     Kwasi's lips formed a tight line. "Just kneel and use the right vows for me when it is time."

     “You want me to kneel and—” she trailed off, her face becoming sullen as she sank back on her heels.

     Kwasi interrupted, his speech quickened, “It doesn’t have to be a full kneel. You could kneel on one knee as long as you say the proper vow.”

     Zariah looked in his eyes, hoping to see signs of a joke, but found no refuge.

     “You want me to give in,” she said, finding her voice, her happiness now fully deflated. Kwasi gazed at her for a moment, then nodded his head.

     “Don’t think of it that way,” he answered. “It’s more of a gesture that you accept me, and I accept you.”

      Zariah squinted at him with her mouth closed as the sour taste of his words took over. “Why would you ask this of me? You know I always wanted to join with a man willing to take me on equal footing,” she said.

     “And you will have very close to that with me,” he said, sitting on his heels and turning his entire body toward her. “You’ve known me for years. I will listen to any argument as I always have. I’m even listening now.”

     Zariah felt a cold tingle clog her ears, then slowly ooze down her face to her toes, paralyzing her as if her blood was no longer moving. The only thing she could feel was her thoughts bouncing around in her head, and it took a moment to convince her brain that she had the physical ability to say them as the pain of this moment grew stronger.

     “How?” she whispered, surprised to hear her voice softly etch out. “How can you say you love me but ask me to do this?”

     Kwasi lifted his hand to her cheek but stopped short, dropping it to his lap.

     “I ask because I love you,” he answered.

     “But you,” she pointed at him, her eyes squinting and brow furrowed, “you know better than anyone what this means to me.”

     Kwasi took in a long breath before slowly releasing it. “And what about me?”

     “You?” she said, her eyes widening as she dropped her hand.

     “Yes, me. I’m the eldest son of my family. I will inherit control of my family’s business. But I’m still no Uka protecting our village. I’m just a Uko,” he answered. “No man has accepted you for two years,” he adds, putting up his two fingers. “Even the council will not allow you to walk the Kusankha again after this year. Don’t you see the implications?”

     “What implications?”

      “If I took you on your terms, it would make me look weak. How can I represent my family’s business or my family when I look as if my wife rules me? They’ll say it’s cause I'm a Uko. I’m sure my father will merely pass my inheritance on to my younger brother. No matter how much I love you, there is more at stake to consider. Surely you’ve thought about this?”

     “I  just—” was all she could mutter. Haven’t thought about it at all.

     “Do you at least understand where I’m coming from?” Kwasi asked. His eyes were wide as he waited for her response. Zariah looked up into his pleading patient eyes.

     Is there a possibility that choosing me would ruin his reputation? Will some people turn against him as much as they have against me? Many women had kept their distance from me since my refusal to kneel. Making sure no one will mistake them for joining me or my cause. Only my cousin Esther and her family have been my companions through these past two years. Is it right to expect Kwasi to take on this battle? Of course, I would like him to. But is that self-fish? Besides, this is my last year. Do I expect a better outcome from someone else? At least he promises to give me an equal say in some matters. That’s more than anyone else is willing to offer. And what if I refuse, Kwasi? What then? I’m sure no offer will ever be made to me. I’m the only woman left from the original group, my first year, and the only one who followed through with it. And without a family, no children, will this hope of equality die with me?

     She sighed to herself.