You can do everything in your power to keep your daughter on the right path — watch her closely, make sure she doesn't mix with the wrong crowd, teach her values, and still allow her a few friends so she doesn't feel isolated. But sometimes, it's those very friends — the ones you think are "safe" because they're all girls — who end up shaking the foundation you built so carefully.
That's exactly what happened with Faidha and Juli when they started hanging out with Zaituni and her crew — girls who'd already been through the streets and learned too much, too fast. They'd been "spiced" and soaked like extra-sweet tea, fully flavored and unashamed. They knew the taste of men all too well, like they'd gone through some secret lessons, though in truth it was just their city-smart survival instinct. Now they were the ones doing the convincing.
"Girl, I don't get you, Faidha," said Zaituni, grinning. "You're keeping that thing like it's waiting for its expiry date! If only you knew how sweet life can get… I wish I'd started way earlier. And you, Juli, what's wrong with you? Emma's been chasing you like crazy but you keep acting scared just because you're still in school."
Juli shot her a look, flipping her lips mockingly. "And what, we're not drawing hearts like the rest of you? Girl, stop being such a villager! We've already learned how to dodge those baby traps — life moves on. You think starting means you'll tear up all your notebooks? Zai, take her out this evening and teach her something; she's too stiff. Always nosing into people's business, acting like she's holy. Grandma, listen — there's no medal for keeping those things locked up, and no market where you can sell them if you store too many. Your fear's just your laziness." Siyawezi said all that, leaving her friend completely speechless. The rest listened, nodding and laughing, none daring to interrupt.
Zaituni added fire to the talk. "Tell her, Siya! Next time she'll be screaming like she's being exorcised. Keep acting like that and you'll end up being used by some nutcase. Wake up, girls, for real!"
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While the girls were chatting and washing clothes, Rahima's Sunday took a very different turn. Slim and tall, she was wading through the shallow ocean waves that morning. The sun was bright, the sea calm, the sky a perfect clear blue.
She wore a swimsuit — just a bra top and tight bottoms — with a light scarf tied around her waist for modesty. Most girls did that, though a few bold ones wore their string bikinis with nothing to hide. Rahima was happy and carefree, splashing around in the water when two young men approached, carrying a float ball. They passed by her, heading for deeper water. Curious, she followed them, hoping they'd let her borrow the float.
When she caught up, she asked if she could use it. The two exchanged glances and smiled. Then one said she could sit on it while they pushed her along — claiming they were experienced swimmers and she'd be safe with them. Without thinking twice, Rahima climbed onto the float, and they began to push her farther out, toward the deeper end. Before long, she realized the water was too deep for her to swim back.
That's when one of the guys showed his true colors. His hand slid under the float, grabbing her behind. She gasped in shock — then felt another hand somewhere it shouldn't be. Looking around, she saw two faces that weren't friendly at all. Worse, she was too far from shore for anyone to hear her.
"Hey! What are you guys doing?" she shouted.
"Relax, pretty girl," one of them said with a smirk. "We just want what you've got — nothing more."
She tried to push him off, but the other grabbed her wrists.
"You've got two choices," one sneered. "Either swim back on your own and leave our float, or sit still and keep quiet. We didn't invite you here."
Rahima looked toward the shore — it was so far away her stomach twisted in fear. If she tried swimming back, she'd drown for sure. She froze, trembling.
Then one hand slipped back down, groping her again, moving her scarf aside, then her inner cloth. The float tilted slightly — and suddenly she felt one of them invading her body. Shocked, helpless, she couldn't even scream as the other held her down. When the first finished, the second took his turn, while on the beach no one had a clue what was happening out there.
Those two were what locals called beach boys — notorious for preying on women who came too close to their zone. Many girls had been humiliated by them and kept silent out of shame. Rahima's curiosity had led her straight into their hands.
When they were done, they pushed her back toward shallow water like nothing had happened, smiling casually as they let her go. Boiling with rage and humiliation, she adjusted her scarf, glared at them, and spat, "Remember this face! Memorize it like I've memorized yours — we'll meet again!" Then she stormed out of the water, her day ruined, her spirit crushed.
Despite her wild past and the many men she'd been with, nothing had ever left her this broken. For the first time, she felt violated — and furious at herself for coming alone instead of with her usual friends.
She sat on a bench, watching as the same guys went after another unsuspecting girl. Her heart sank; she knew exactly what awaited that poor girl.
"Maybe they don't know who I am," she muttered through clenched teeth. "Rahima, daughter of Mbagala — they'll learn the hard way."
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Meanwhile, Siyawezi and her friends were dead serious about pulling their new recruit into their world. That evening, they left together for the next neighborhood. Juli was more nervous than Faidha, but she stayed quiet — she'd been talked about enough. Maybe if she just went along, their teasing would finally stop.
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