My father used to say my brothers were born, charging out of mother’s vagina like the best Cossack trick riders, he’d swell his chest and tap his heart with pride
I slid out of mother, screaming, with thick black curls, fierce determination… And a disjointed hip.
My parents bound my hip to a stiff wood and bone casing , and chained my ankles to keep them still.
I couldn’t ride, until one day donkey nudged her foal towards me.
I wiggled and slid but the stiff hips wouldn’t sit properly on her back (I couldn’t sit astride due to the restraint on my ankles). Seeing my plight, Donkey tucked her head under my arm and lifted me, leaving my feet on the foals back.
I grasped the hairy body to steady myself until I was perfectly balanced.
My balance became stronger the more I practised, and I learnt to ride.


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