A Girl Named Disaster by Nancy Farmer

dazed by all the illness around her, and by her elders shouting at each other. Masvita was so thin. She might die at any moment. Suddenly, Nhamo began to shake all over. She gasped for breath and clung to Masvita as though she were trying to keep her from being dragged off by lions.
    Uncle Kufa entered to find Grandmother rocking back and forth on her knees. Aunt Chipo howled like a dog. Masvita produced thin, wailing cries as she lay on her mat, and Nhamotrembled as though she had malaria. He backed out of the hut and ran into the forest.
    By the time Uncle Kufa returned several hours later, the madness had lifted and everyone was on speaking terms again. It was as though the cholera had wrung everything out of the villagers’ bodies and found nothing left to attack except their spirits. When the strange fit was over, the disease was truly defeated. Every hour saw its strength ebb away.
    The men dug a mass grave in the forest, and the bodies were buried with as many of the proper ceremonies as possible. Ambuya and Aunt Chipo behaved with affection toward each other once more. Masvita took over the care of Aunt Shuvai’s children, a task she enjoyed in spite of her extreme weakness. Everything appeared to be healing. But Nhamo felt that something was not right.
    She had difficulty putting it into words. The conversation at the dare was too quiet; the women no longer clustered in groups at the stream. Rather, there was a space between one person and the next. It was as though a necklace had come apart and each bead rolled separately across the floor. The village had broken somewhere deep inside, and she had no idea how to mend it.
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    * dassie: An animal that resembles a large guinea pig. Also called a hyrax or rock rabbit.

7
    I s that basket too heavy?” Masvita asked as Nhamo carefully took a few steps.
    “I don’t think so. I’ll tell you if I need help,” Nhamo said. In fact, the basket was larger than anything she had ever attempted, but Nhamo was afraid to ask her cousin to take some of the load. Masvita was so thin! She had been over the cholera for weeks, but she was still skeletal. It wasn’t from lack of food. Every time she turned around, someone tried to feed her. Aunt Chipo killed one of her precious hens and forced her daughter to eat all of it. Ambuya toasted pumpkin seeds and sprinkled them with salt.
    But Uncle Kufa had made the greatest sacrifice. Accompanied by Nhamo, he went into the forest and found a wild beehive. The bees had taken up residence in an old termite nest. First Uncle Kufa checked the opening. A blackish opening would show that the hive was new, and they would have to find another one. But the opening was the color of earth. That meant the bees had had time to store honey.
    Uncle Kufa sealed the hole and dug another entrance close by with a hoe. He made a smoky fire of grass and leaves to make the bees drowsy. In spite of this, when he thrust his hands into the new opening, some of the insects were alert enough to sting.
    Nhamo bit the inside of her cheek as she watched. She didn’t dare get close. The tears randown Uncle Kufa’s face as he grimly scooped out honeycombs. He placed them in a pot of water to keep the bees from finding them again.
    It was Nhamo’s job to carry the pot. Her uncle’s hands were so swollen, he couldn’t pick up his hoe, so Nhamo carried that as well. They hurried away before the bees woke up.
    Aunt Chipo squeezed the honey out of the combs and boiled it with millet meal to make delicious cakes. Every time Masvita showed the slightest willingness, a cake was thrust into her mouth. Still she didn’t gain weight and, most upsetting of all, her menstruation didn’t occur at the expected time.
    “She’s very young,” Ambuya told Aunt Chipo. “Girls are often irregular at that age.”
    “She’s sterile,” moaned Aunt Chipo. “I’ll never have grandchildren.”
    Ambuya pursed her lips in annoyance.
    This was why Nhamo was unwilling to share her