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About 20 years ago I was born in the land of Tyros. My mama and baba were the Igétis of Tyros, the Chiefs. They had great responsibilities over the village people who were all a part of one family, the Tyros clan. This clan had always depended on the Chief family. Before baba, was yáyá (grandma), when my papús (grandpa) died due to Mávro Pyretó (Black fever) which has been the cause of most deaths in our village for past twenty-one years. But then also my yáyá always felt that our power of development was strong enough to retain such an evil. So, to set an example she used to share with me such stories of our primitive history that extends almost up to two hundred years of prosperity.
My life was not always like this, cause I was the only daughter of my parents and also the future of Tyros. All the villagers believed that the fortieth ruler of Tyros clan would bring up a new era of development. So, everyone had high expectations on me, believing that Tyros would no longer had to face a harsh and a difficult lifestyle, and the newborns would have a safer environment to live in. And indeed, our ancestors had never been wrong.
Once my yáyá said that I was born different; different than any other kid in our village. We had a culture that had been carried out by all our ancestors from one generation to the other, years after years. So was followed during my time. Five women with different objects in their hands stood in front of me and made me choose the object that I found the most interesting. Each carried different objects, one maybe books, another maybe coins, and likewise sword, grain, and key by others. She said that at first, I looked really hesitant, more confused, about choosing the best thing among them. But finally, when I placed my hands on it, everybody in the palace was shocked to see my choice. I touched her face, the cheeks of Mellita, one of the five maids. I laughed so hard that even my three-years tiny teeth were also visible, bright and clear, filled with bliss. Maybe I was happy, more than just joy but, my parents and the villagers were really disappointed. My father even clutched my mama’s shoulders and gave her some strength to accept my truth. But, my yáyá was different. My father used to say that my resemblance was so similar to her that it never made him feel the absence of her existence. She took me by my arms and lifted me high up in the air, my feet dangling free above her head. She declared,” The future of Tyros will no longer be the same. The special is now on our doorstep.” Even if my baba was the chief of the village, my yáyá held a very special position until, she left our sides.
Fighting was always a necessity for our living. Fighting not only with swords or spears but, also in the field of survival. Fighting hard to grow crops, fighting hard for arranging freshwater, and of course, fighting very hard to keep the newborns alive. And, being the future of Tyros clan I needed to learn all these strategies of life and many more.
But, who cared. I remained lost in my own world, with my friends who were the mean of my survival. These friends didn’t include the kids of the village but, had all kinds of creatures other than the humans who lived in this deserted land. Fennec, Meerkat, Hume’s owl, and many others. We all spent our whole day understanding each other’s wanting, and of course, language. The Meerkat was called Trapias, the Humes owl was called Memosas and the Fennec fox was Limpic. Limpic always stayed very close to me, so close that we even used to sleep together cuddling and hurdling inside my blanket. There was nothing more fun than spending time with them, exploring the world outside. But, my father, he never accepted me as the way I lived. He used to find me out from even the darkest, and the most impossible-to-find kind of places too, and made me attend the lessons of survival. The long lectures of how to find water avaibility inside the ground, how to build a proper house and how to stay safe during the thunderstorms and many as such, never made me seat still without looking out for dung beetles and ants. Every night during the time of our dinner, my almost-a-secret friends used to stay hidden behind the curtains, and every time I used to throw a meatball towards them my father sighed with more and more disappointment.
There were such dozens of times when he sat with me, in peace and patience, and tried to make me understood the importance of learning such lessons and being serious about the true objectives of my life as the future of Tyros. But, it always ended up with me running and hiding behind yáyá’s back, and her sweet talks that made him give up finally.
I spent long nights lying on yáyá’s lap along with my friends, listening to her stories of exploration and courage that our ancestors showed and kept up Tyros developing with each passing year. But, she never told me to change myself and prepare hard for the future cause she believed time heals everything.
That’s how it went with joy, excitement, and a little mockery from the village kids and my baba’s persistent scolding until, something made me change my mind; completely.
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