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When the master of drums fancied taking possession of a woman’s heart, few things in this world, nor the other one, could stay his hand.
When he saw Yewá that day, without his being seen by her, a sad story was set in motion.
Who knows how he managed to get close to her and outwit the jealous eye of her father! He, protective of his daughter’s virtuous beauty, guarded and watched over her constantly.
One day, he pretending to be a humble gardener, stooped over the earth. When she approached to pick a flower, he smiled at her.
Another time he became a carpenter, hammering at a piece of wood. He pretended he didn’t notice when she approached, in curiosity, to see who was making such a noise.
And…what was going on in Yewá’s heart?
Irrespective of how it had started, she had been in a sort of stupor for many years—a stupor that had prevented her from seeing the world as it really was.
But one day something had shocked her out of it. What had it been?
At the beginning she could not comprehend it.
While resting at night, with her eyes tightly closed, she could only remember that while trying to pick a rose, delicate, but with treacherous thorns, something had suddenly cleared away the thick fog from before her face. His eyes! Those eyes she had looked into for a second, as though by mistake. Those eyes staring at her, sweetly assaulting her, those eyes below a gardener’s hat. This gardener could not have been as old as he seemed. His body was stronger and more beautiful than that of her initial impression. She realized that those eyes, that man, had taken her into an unknown world.
Some other day, the hammer blows made her succumb again to that gaze. An open, provocative gaze this time, travelling all over her virginal beauty…as as perfect and intact as her beloved, jealous father would have it remain. Many moons later, their furtive meetings began. At first, they were coincidental, then on purpose.
Then bodily love came along. She was robbed of her precious treasure; her chastity vanished in the arms of her lover.
Fire devoured the young woman’s heart!
But Changó left when he had satisfied his lust.
The fire was burned out.
And guilt took its place.
She understood then that the sweetness of her sacrifice had been a waste of time. She was still in love and, therefore, did not want everything to seem mere caprice. She couldn’t remove from her heart the rose she had plucked so delicately, the rose that had snared her with its hidden thorn.
The worst thing was that she could not face her father, she could not plead guilty and ask him to forgive her. She wanted no forgiveness!
She did not want to be forgiven for her fault so as not to forget the happy moment that had led to it. Instead, she wanted an everlasting banishment from his old heart, which would surely be broken.
She wished no forgiveness. Her destiny could no longer stroll down pleasant paths like her father wanted. What she wanted was eternal punishment so that sadness would keep alive the love that resided in her heart.
Her father, pitiful and understanding, wavered between unasked forgiveness and implored punishment.
So, to please her, he sent her to live with sadness. She went to live forever with wailing and with death.
She served with Obba as second guardian of the graveyard.