SANNI THE BEAUTIFUL

SANNI (THE BEAUTIFUL)

Sanni the beautiful is dead

She was most exquisite creature he had ever laid eyes on.

HE was born with a curse.

A descendant of the Royal Mandinkan Empire, Salif learned from an early age, that the colour of your skin determined your fate within the rigid caste system. Ostracized and an outcast...treated no better than the dog that ate scraps from the ground...All because he was not born with Black skin. GHOST boy they would call him. In his culture, he was seen as a bad omen, a harbourer of bad luck. Hidden from society, Salif had a very lonely childhood. Unable to play with the other children...the hot unforgiving sun was his enemy. Sun...the giver of life, would burn into him...his eyes which were visually impaired and normally covered with dark glasses.

His only company were musical instruments. He began playing at a young age. Taught by local musicians who took Salif under their wing. But even this was considered shameful to his family, as this was not a part of his destined role with in the caste system. 
 

A Griot he was not.

So, hidden away from the blaring, unforgiving sun, and from unforgiving, prying eyes, he learnt to play the most beautiful music. Sometimes you would hear him strumming his kora in the middle of the night, where time stood still, darkness enveloped him, and he truly felt free...to be himself.

It was a Sunday like most others. Wrapped up in layers of cloth, to protect his sensitive, un-pigmented skin, and translucent blue eyes, he was walking through the market place to get to the mosque. Fragrant, heady, aromatic smells filled the air. Music from street musicians livened up the otherwise suffocatingly hot day. Frantic drumming, lively dancing, a rainbow of vivid colors and people.

And that's when he saw her amongst the crowd. She, like him, stood out, amongst the sea of ebony skin. She had the palest of white skin. Sparkling, clear blue eyes. Long, flowing blond hair. The most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Their eyes met. It was awkward. He spoke in his native Mandikan dialect, with some broken French. She was the daughter of a Dignitary from Finland. So far away from her home and people. She knew very little of the local dialects. She did understand and was able to converse in broken French. And so was the beginning of many conversations that two people have, who's common bond was not ever really belonging anywhere, began to grow and develop into an unlikely friendship.

She knew what it felt like to be different, to stand out in the crowd and not fit in. She too suffered terribly in the unforgiving landscape and heat.

They spent many an evening together, growing fonder of each other...their conversations seemed to go on forever. So touching, so tender. What began as a friendship, began to blossom into a very deep love between Sanni and Salif.

When Sannis' father found out about her nightly visits to Salif...he forbade her to continue the friendship...telling her it could never possibly amount to anything! What would people say!

The blow to them both, was too much to bear, so they planned an escape. One night during the New Moon, they ran away into the Hombori Tondo Mountains, where they could live and hide, away from an unforgiving society that couldn't understand how true love transcends all barriers.

Although life was hard, they were kept sheltered, and cool in the belly of the mountains, where they would gather water from underground waterfalls, and eat local foods. It was an existence of solitude. They conducted most of their activities just as the sun would set each evening. Sanni would bathe in the river with the sky spanning over the horizon...amber gradually turning flamingo pink,  regal purple, azure, to a deep indigo...until the first stars became visible, and would light up their nights. Sanni and Salif would often talk about how liberating it would be to be able to fly into the darkness, leave this world, and to go and visit their ancestors who lived in the stars. They believed that true love was born in stars and would find two people, no matter where they lived and if they both looked at the same stars, then they were destined to be together as long as that star was shining.

Most nights, amongst the back drop of the stars, and in the comfort of darkness, you would hear the soft strumming of his kora...the haunting sound, reverberating across the deserted plains.

Sanni would dance...her beautiful body silhouette casting flickering shadows from the fires they would light to keep warm, and the animals away. He would sing...his voice soaring, high, resonating with the mountains and the Gods that were surely watching over them.

There was much laughter, tenderness, love to be made. They were happy! They were truly free.

Two years later Sanni realized she was carrying child. Each full moon, her belly grew...as did their love for one another. Salif played to his unborn child every night...his voice singing songs about his child's destiny, how he was the son of a Queen and King that would one travel far and wide, to tell his mother and fathers story, and to teach people of all colors, the true meaning of what it is to be human.

It was the night of a full moon, when Sanni felt the first pangs of labor grip her body. They were miles away from anybody, so Sanni let the knowledge of many thousands of years flow through her, guiding her to deliver this child. Many hours passed, the labor was difficult, the birth complicated, and the bleeding wouldn't stop. Salif remained by her side, holding her hands, washing her forehead with cool water, whispering words of encouragement, praying to the ancestors,   the Prophet Mohammad and God to deliver his child, and to keep Sanni safe. 
 

Just as the sun broke that morning over the mountain top...the full moon, still behind them about to dip behind the horizon...Sanni let out one final scream, and their son was born in those mountains.

Sanni looked into her sons eyes...beautiful brown eyes...his skin still pink...but as he dried, he gained his color...a beautiful sandy toffee, that blended in with the dessert landscape. A mop of dark brown curly hair...and a strong wail that echoed through the desert.

But Sanni had lost too much blood, and was weak. Her breathing shallow, she looked into Salif s eyes...imploring him...look after our Son. 

“He is the seed of love that will go back to teach the people”.

They named him.....CAMARA

Salif, shaking his head...holding Sannis hand...baby Camara at her breast...squeezing her hand, until the last pulse of life left her body.

He cried... "Why did you take her from me"? He was angry.

Even in her final moments on this physical plane, Sanni looked beautiful, peaceful. Still warm, Salif whispered the most tender prayers ,asking that Sanni the beautiful be looked after for ever more in that place where the spirit goes after death. He stayed with her for a full day, and night...whispering endearing words into her ears. He knew that her residual essence would hear his words, and help guide her to eternity.

He then picked a spot in those mountains...washed her body with the pure waters from the falls, as her spirit dissolved under the flow of water, shrouded her body,and he lay her peacefully to rest, facing the setting sun.

Salif went back to his village with his Camara, for he knew he was unable to feed and look after an infant so young. When his mother and sisters saw his son, they put out their arms, and kissed their little prince on the forehead, and promised to look after him until he was old enough to be with his father again...

Five years past before Salif would see Camara again. On his 5^th Birthday, he was taken with his uncles on a long trip back to the Hombori Tondo mountains. When he first saw his father, he was very shy...he had never seen a white skin before. He had known from a very young age that he was not the same color as the other children he played with. But he didn't know what was different.

When little Camara saw his father...down on his knees...out stretched arms...he knew he was where he belonged. Sinking into his fathers arms, they didn't let go. Holding hands, they wave to the family, turn around, and head back into the mountains.

Some nights, when the stars are bright in the sky, you will hear the sound of the kora playing, a beautiful but haunting voice...singing into the night...a song

for Sanni the Beautiful

Lover
Mother...

telling her soul to keep soaring high, where it belongs in the stars.

“Sanni the beautiful is dead

The blood that flows in our veins is the same

It doesn't matter what color our skin is

You can be white on the outside

but still black on the inside

Her spirit dissolved in the waterfall

Let your soul soar over the mountain tops

And up into the stars

where you can look down and watch your

Son and I sing love songs for you”

Sanni the Beautiful

Sanni Kegniba

This story was inspired in part, by true events, the life of Musician Salif Keita...Mansa of Mali.
I have always loved this particular song, but to date have not been able to find an English Translation.
  I debated as to whether or not I should play the music while the story is being read.  In the end, I decided that it should be watched on it's own, as there are some simply stunning Visuals that should not be missed, and you will also see where more of the inspiration for this story came from.