I Am Anjuhimeko

In only three years I gave birth to three children, but I let my husband bury one of the babies I’d gone to all the trouble to bear, he buried her in the sand, and now my swollen breasts are too much to manage, the holes in my breast where the milk should come out are plugged up, feverish, and swollen, just a simple touch and my breasts hurt so badly I think they’ll rip open, but still I don’t know which is worse, the pain in my breast or the sorrow at having lost my child, I spend every day weeping from dawn to dusk, and in the process of all this weeping, I have ruined my eyes, when that happened my husband said to me he didn’t want me in the house any longer because I’d gone blind, you’re the one who gave birth to the baby that wasn’t fit for anything except burial, no doubt you’ve got something deep and dark in your karmic past that made you give birth to that child and made you go blind, if you stay here, your deep, dark karma will rub offon me, so before that happens, do me the favor of dying or at least getting the hell out of the house, shit, I wish I could have buried you in the sand too

Then, the next day, I check that the two children on my right and my left are still asleep, and I hold my breath as I quietly sneak out, I creep out of the house as quietly as I can, I’m going to dig a hole in the sand and hide myself in it, where was it I buried that baby? every day more and more people come to bury their babies so I don’t have any idea where mine is, I have no idea, but I dig a hole in the sand and bury myself in it anyway, as I do so, the cries of the children reach my, ears, I feel the faint warmth of the bodies of the buried babies, as long as I stay buried here in the sun, I can’t forget what has happened to me, if I’d known this was what fate had in store for me. I wouldn’t have obeyed my husband and buried the baby, I shouldn’t have done that, when things got bad, I should’ve found some other way, any other way, there must have been something I could’ve done, but no matter how much I regret it, no matter how much, no matter how much, no matter how much, it still isn’t enough, and I weep hysterically

When I look around, I see footprints in the sand, handprints in the sand, what are those? in them, I see the outlines of five toes and inside that, I can even see the swirls of the prints of the individual toes, they’re the size of an adult’s feet, no, wait, here and there among the big prints are a couple of prints from a child’s foot, there are only one or two of them, maybe those prints are Anjuhimeko’s, I see the patterns of fingers, several strands of hair, dried bloodstains, wet patches, numerous, numerous bodies of all different sorts, which of them belongs to her: I can’t say, does that handprint belong to her? could that footprint be hers? what about that fingerprint? is that strand of hair one of hers? when I buried her, the last thing I saw was her ear, a big, big, big ear, I could see the sand pouring into it so I took the hollow stalk of a reed and stuck it in her ear, and that was the last I saw of her the hole with her in it was all filled in

What would happen if my husband were to change his mind and suddenly come get me? no, what if he doesn’t? I don’t know, meanwhile, it seems as if I can hear the cries of the buried children emerging here and there from the sandy patch of land, I don’t know, I feel what seems like the weight of a baby or something on my shoulders and on my back, it’s on my hands and arms, I feel as if I’m touching the children’s corpses, will my husband come or not? the stench of the babies reaches me every time the wind blows, I feel like the stench is accusing me every time the wind blows, if I’d known how things would work out, I would’ve gotten rid of the baby a long time ago when I was pregnant, that’s what I keep thinking to myself, but I didn’t and so that’s why these horrible things are happening to me, will my husband come or not? will he or won’t he? maybe he will and maybe he won’t, maybe he won’t, as I think these things to myself, the children accuse me and I feel their reproaches sink deep into my skin

And then, I think about how many I buried, two of my babies are still alive, people keep telling me I should give up, I should give up, but even if I’ve given up on my buried baby, I still can’t give up on the husband who threw me out, buried here in the sand, all I can think about is whether or not he’ll suddenly change his mind and come take me away, that’s the only thing on my mind, dead child, go ahead and die, die, die, don’t look back, I want to live

Then go ahead and get out of the sand, you can’t really do anything, you should go and chase sparrows out of the millet fields for a living, that’s what people tell me so that’s what I do. I climb out of the sand, and here I am

No matter where I go, the sun beats down on me, the rain has stopped so the sun beats down, I keep walking, though, and with each passing minute the burning sun roasts me a little more, I keep walking just a look and you can see how burnt I am, as I walk, the steam rises from my charred body yet I keep walking the country roads, this is the fate that has befallen me