Shawa, the Night Woman III

وه ختی شه وه هاته وه – مندالی ساوا بدزیته وه

نزیک بوو له لانکه وه - تا کوره که ش بباته وه

دایکم هە لسا له خه وه وه - شه وه ش بزر بوو نه هاته وه

Yes, Shawa disappeared and mothers wondered why all of a sudden she stopped stealing babies. Some people thought something must have happened to her or even attributed her disappearance to an act of God. A few years later Shawa was almost forgotten except in the memory of a few old women who reminded expectant mothers of the danger and strongly urged them to be on guard.

Shawa didn´t come back and her disappearance made my life empty for as I said she was a very important part of my childhood. I also developed the habit of going to bed very early to let my mind wander off to where Shawa was. I knew from some people about the power of thoughts. Shawa, however, neither appeared in my dreams nor was I able to make her come back. My memory waned the older I got and all I remembered now was her black clothes.

I turned to my mother a few times to find out more but whenever she spoke of Shawa she shook with a shudder and I noticed how her blood curdled in her face. I saw it in her eyes and the way her complexion changed. Later Shawa practically turned to a legend which you could not take seriously and I was destined to leave my family forever.

When the news of my mother´s sudden death reached me after a long separation lasting more than twenty years I was devastated and paralyzed for a long time not only because I was not able to see her again but because I could not be present when she was buried either. Three years later I decided to go back and at least visit her grave. One of my brothers took me there and I begged him to leave me alone. The place she was buried in was nice, lonely and deserted not at all typical of a graveyard. My brother told me they bought a separate piece of land there for the members of our family.

When my brother left I kneeled down and kissed my mother´s gravestone and cried bitterly until nightfall. I then got up rubbed my eyes ready to go when a woman dressed in black appeared before me with her eyes looking down and her black thin clothes flapping in the night wind in her face. The darkness of the night and her black clothes formed a unity out of which a fine and delicate face appeared. I was in fear and trembling but she held me strongly in her arms saying: remember you are a son to two mothers, she is dead but I am here. I begged her: Please do not leave me again. Shawa smiled faintly and kissed me on my head. Then she loosened her grip and I fell slowly on my mother´s tomb and saw Shawa disappear again.

Bremen, 25 April 2011