I always refer to Yadah as the first man. He treated me with such tenderness, and made me feel safe..adored, easing me into an understanding of the spiritual dance between masculine and feminine. He was barebacked, and seemed very much at home without a shirt. His muscles twitched with even small shifts in his stance. He was brown, almost golden, as his complexion reflected so much of the sun that his skin itself shone. With his tanned locks, I’d imagined that this is what they called ‘sun-kissed’. I laid in the hammock and dozed off but the intensified aroma woke me up some time later. As my eyes opened, Yadah instinctively turned around, offering me something to drink. He dug into the cooler, pulled out a beastly cold LLB, popped the top, placed a straw in it’s mouth, and then apologised for having no napkins before handing it to me. Before I could get halfway through my drink, the need to pee urged me out of the hammock. My heart rate sped up, in tandem with my level of vulnerability, as I tapped Yadah on his shoulder and told him. He brought along tissue paper, and held my hand as we descended a slight embankment into a patch of the forest where I would be hidden from view. Before leaving me, he explained that he would be out of sight but that he would hear me when I called. I peed, and then called out to him. He led us out, after washing my hands with water he had brought along. When we returned, the soup was finished, and he helped me into the hammock, washed my feet from the trek and handed me a bowl of soup in a calabash bowl, carefully swaddled by a cut fig leaf.
Yadah left me with a lifetime of energy to contemplate and be embraced by. I would, from thereon use him as a base to question, explore and understand my response to men.
Three years after Yadah, I would find myself sitting in pre-marital counselling talking about my feelings for my husband-to-be, and for men in general. We were engaged and I should have told him…that my problem wasn’t the love that he gave, but with the love that I could not return. I wouldn’t understand it then, but we were too similar in our intentions and desires. – Janberry