I May Have Sold My Brother into a Forced Marriage

I must preface this story, which is brief, with another story.

The first morning in Materi, having finished cleaning my bathroom, and loofing around my house, I decided to go find my neighbor and ask her about some things for my house. I walk out of my concession, over to the next concession. Before going over, I briefly looked out my bedroom to see if my neighbor was indeed up and stirring. I saw a group of people on the stoop, and took that as a signal to move. Timidly I entered the gate, tin, framed with wood, and walked up half-timid, and half-confident. It was all women, speaking rapidly in Biali, the local language here in Materi. The commotion centered around one woman.

Sitting in a chair, spread eagle, a panya wrapped around her waist, no shirt, no bra, and her weave thick and Diana Ross like, was Sophie. Sophie is the oldest daughter, and she lives in Natitingou.

After I saluer-ed they all kept on with what they were doing. For Sophie this meant lotioning her thick legs, and then her big, full African breasts. Later Sophie would ask for my jewelry and dress. I asked for hers. She said sure, my plan back fired. After that Sophie would say she was coming back to the states with me. During the course of conversation I explained I had two older brothers. I tell her one isn’t married. I offer him to her. She says yes without flinching. Later she asks her mom, I begin to worry I really have arranged for my brother to marry Sophie.