The window kiss

One last look at the boarding school, then Pule and I drove to Kaabong. In the future, I did not have to do any more homework, our school time was over. I already knew that I would miss her laughter and her warmth.
 The landscape in this northern part of Uganda was very beautiful when there was not a drought. As I approached my second hometown, unusually shaped hills and rocks jutted out of the savannah among thorny bushes and clumps of trees. From a distance, some of them looked like animal or human figures whom I had given different names. My favorite rock was called Ekone, "my friend." He seemed like a big antelope lying on the ground. After school, I often climbed the rocks to look out into the vast surroundings and dream of my future.
 Yes, my future. I did not have the slightest idea what my life would be like. In other words, I did not have the slightest idea how to explain to my parents that I wanted to go to school. When I returned home, I made my wish calm and objective. Previously, I was armed with all sorts of arguments, as I wanted to convince Tata especially: With my one leg, no one would marry me anyway. I could not do any heavy work in the field or in the house, because it would be better if I continued my studies. However, it was not necessary to justify my decision. My mother just sighed, but then gave me a curt nod to understand that she agreed.
 Then I visited the Loiki school in Kaabong. Although I had not forgotten Pule, I soon found a friend who became as important to me as my cousin had been before. Every morning Lonya stood in front of my parents' house to pick me up and go with me the three kilometers to school. There was a reason for that: Lonya was in love with me. I noticed how he looked at me. He also helped me day after day wearing my heavy raffia school bag. Out of pity for my disability, he certainly did not.
 The affection was mutual. I liked him too. He was two years older than me and looked very handsome: tall, slender, very light-skinned, with bright white teeth, beautiful lips, small narrow eyes, and clean hands. Thanks to Pule, I had slowly shed my timidity, yet I remained a girl with only one leg. I could never forget that. Lonya did not seem to mind. Once it had rained heavily, he also accompanied me home from school. Usually, after class, he stayed in the school to do his homework, and I set off alone. But now he was afraid that I might slip out of the rain-soaked floor with my prosthesis. When I walked a few steps in front of him at one point, I realized as he watched me from behind. He seemed to like what he saw, how I limped and moved my butt differently than the girls of my age usually did. When we came to a Ngapedurbaum, he suddenly stopped and put his hands on my body, below my waist. For us this means "I like you and would like to sleep with you." At that moment, I felt like a real woman. Then Lonya said, "Bushile, I'll visit you after sunset. It's not possible with me. "My answer:" Yes, thank you. " below my waist. For us this means "I like you and would like to sleep with you." At that moment, I felt like a real woman. Then Lonya said, "Bushile, I'll visit you after sunset. It's not possible with me. "My answer:" Yes, thank you. " below my waist. For us this means "I like you and would like to sleep with you." At that moment, I felt like a real woman. Then Lonya said, "Bushile, I'll visit you after sunset. It's not possible with me. "My answer:" Yes, thank you. "
 In Uganda it is perfectly normal to say thank you for everything - also for the expected intercourse, as well as for the experienced sex. Only: how could I give my consent to Lonya? I was fourteen years old and not married. My mother once said to me, "Bushile, sex should be enjoyed by two people. They do that too when they love each other. It should not be kept secret either. But the first man you go to bed with must be married to you and do not forget to thank your husband for everything he has done for you. "
 I did not know what had gone into me when I said yes, thanks. My parents and other siblings were on their way to visit relatives. Only Namoe was there because she did not want to be alone all the time. Her husband, Lojik the cattle thief, was still behind bars. Lonya stuck to the date.
 That was not self-evident, because in Kaabong it was pitch dark at seven o'clock in the evening. Hardly anyone ventured out of the houses and huts, out of fear of wild animals. But Lonya was not afraid, and he had promised me to be very careful. Namoe, with whom I stayed in the same room, was already asleep because she had been working on our field since sunrise, out of duty to her parents. Maybe she would not have given in to her fatigue if it had occurred to her that someone would come to our house after dark to seduce her little sister.
Quietly I hopped to the window to look for Lonya. He lived not far from us. My heart was pounding. I thought you'd have to be able to see every single shot, because I just had a cloth wrapped around my hips, and I was completely naked around the top. My heart was racing with excitement because I found it incredibly brave that I had given Lonya my consent to love me. In the house of my parents, this was just as impossible as in the hut of his parents. In addition, I was able to have a child, and that was something I absolutely did not want before marrying. 
Despite all these concerns, I had not denied him. Lonya had just screwed my head - maybe because I never thought a boy would sleep with me. What had I once worried about, what would I do with my leg in such a situation! Now everything seemed easy at once. I had lost my prosthesis, now Lonya had only to come. The window opening was barely larger than my head. Suddenly I saw him in the darkness, lit only by the neighbors' fires. He wore a kakihose, nothing more. His upper body was as naked as mine. I watched as he approached slowly, as if he were thinking with each step exactly what he wanted to do with me. As he stood in front of me, he whispered, "Bushile, I want to show you something.
 The most beautiful feelings flowed through me, never before had I been kissed. It was like luck was crawling up my one leg. But in the midst of this wonderful experience, Namoe woke up. Now I had a problem, because I was afraid that she would tell our mother about this window encounter. Tata had once beaten me violently and called me malaya, "prostitute," just because I had talked to Loiki, a boy from my elementary school. I had not understood that at all, because sex between a man and a woman was seen as something normal in my homeland, sex was part of life, even among girls and boys. But my parents were Muslims, they seemed to have different views.
 Sleepily, my sister raised her head and when she did not spot me on my cowhide mat she called, "Bush, what are you doing at the window? You stand there with one leg, what if you lose your balance? " 
 " Namoe, it will not hurt me, "I said as Lonya pressed herself against the wall. "Remember how I climbed on the trees with one leg and danced with many other girls? Nothing happened to me, it will not happen now. " 
 My sister did not let up. "Why do you have to stick your head out of the window, and then a hyena will bite your nose off."
 The rendezvous was over, we could not continue the kiss - my sister would not rest until I hopped off the window. I whispered a few words to Lonya, he smiled and then started back. 
 "Bushile, I just heard a boy's voice. You can be glad if I do not tell Tata about it. "Instead of answering, I lay down on my mat. Before falling asleep I could only think of the kiss. This tingling! What would happen if Lonya touched my breasts? Would this beautiful feeling get even bigger? Or if he ...? That night, I must have fallen asleep with a smile on my face. 
 The following day I was picked up by Lonya as usual. Curiously, I asked, "How did you know that?" 
" Did you know?"
" Well, that with your tongue, that you can put it in my mouth?" 
 "Mpenzi, sweetheart, I've stolen a book from a teacher. It states that the muzungus do it that way before they want to sleep with a woman. "The muzungus were" the whites "in Swahili. 
 "For real? That's what the whites do? " 
 " Yeah, they call it kiss, kiss. "At the same time, we both laughed out loud, because it sounded so weird, especially since there's no word for kisses in our tongue. A Karamojong warrior did not kiss at all and I had never seen my dad kiss my mother. Maybe he did it secretly, but I had not been able to watch such things with my parents. In front of us children no caresses were exchanged at all.
 A few years later I lived in the capital Kampala with Uncle Karul, who was Idi Amin's information minister at the time and lived in luxurious conditions, including a TV set. Tata, who came to visit me one day, and I sat on a wide couch, we watched an English movie. It was a love movie and inevitably it came in a scene for the kiss. My mother exclaimed, "Oitakoi, look, Bushile! The man and the woman are biting each other! "
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