Treegirl

People earn their names when they are born, but Treegirl earned hers the day she died. The children who found her hanging in a mopane tree gave her the name just before stealing her red, size 8 ½ Made-in-China shoes so they could sell them and buy bread. They felt it necessary to call her something before robbing her; their instincts said it was the least they could do. Afterward, the children ran to alert the adults, and by the time they cut the rope and let the body drop to the ground, everybody knew the girl by Treegirl. If she had been called other things before, it did not matter.

Namgcobha, the girl’s grandmother, stumbled over the –Tree part of her granddaughter’s brand new English name, but because she was determined, she rehearsed it over and over, churning it between her teeth and tongue like a sweet seed until it came out right. Tree. Girl. Treegirl. Death by a tree. Namgcobha was grateful: to the mopane on which her granddaughter had hung herself, to the new name, and to the children who had named her. It meant people would at least talk about a different cause of death. As far as Namgcobha was concerned, hanging, or anything for that matter, was better than the AIDS Disease. Now she could at least look people in the eye and accept their stunned condolences, her head, exempt from shame, held somewhat high...