@mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2123: long braid

in Freewriters9 months ago

woman-7879816_1280.png

A custom as old as time itself was kept with care and regard in a small town tucked away between gentle hills and dense forests somewhere in Africa. This custom involved long braids, a talent that had been handed down through the years for weaving not only hair but also tales, dreams, and feelings. A young girl named Abike resided in the center of this community. As she painstakingly braided beautiful designs into the village residents' hair, Abike's fingers moved with a natural grace.

Abike would walk to the town square every morning as the sun painted the sky with colours of orange and pink. As they waited in line to take a seat on the wooden stool in front of Abike, the villagers were always united by a sense of community and friendship. Her eyes, the color of the serene river that flowed nearby, sparkled with the promise of transformation.

Abike's fingers moved like poetry in motion, gracefully parting the hair into sections. She would deftly intertwine strands, weaving stories of love, adventure, and courage. The older villagers often spoke of how Abike's braids were like portals, transporting them back to their youth, rekindling memories of their own journeys. The young ones would eagerly await their turn, envisioning the futures they aspired to create.

As Abike's fingers worked, the villagers bared their souls, sharing their hopes, fears, and dreams (especially of the coming wars with the western conquerors). The braid became a vessel for their confidences, binding them not just in hair but in a tapestry of trust and connection. Through laughter and tears, the bonds between Abike and her fellow villagers grew stronger, forming a resilient community where every individual felt seen and valued.

Beyond the undeniable artistry of her braids, Abike possessed an uncanny ability to sense the unspoken. She could discern the stories hidden behind hesitant smiles and downcast gazes. With compassion and skill, she would gently coax these stories to the surface, intertwining them into the braid with delicate care.

The long braid wasn't just an ornament; it was a symbol of unity, a testament to the power of human connection. Through Abike's touch, the village embraced the beauty of vulnerability, acknowledging that every life was a unique strand in the grand tapestry of existence. And so, the tradition of the long braid flourished, a reminder that in sharing our stories, we weave the threads of our lives into something beautiful and enduring.