Mariamar gesticulates, pointing at her notebook. Her mumbling reminds me of Roland, my poor brother, who had such an intimate relationship with words throughout his life, and now doesn’t even have access to the most basic vocabulary. The girl with the honey eyes waves her arms, her capulana opens like a pair of wings, and her mother translates:

  She says the only clothes she has are this notebook.

  * * *

  I give them some time, and withdraw so that the two of them, Hanifa and Mariamar, can say their goodbyes. But there is no leave-taking. A hand that lingers on a hand: That’s the only exchange of words between mother and daughter. But the delay has a purpose that I almost fail to notice: The mother discreetly passes a kind of necklace to her daughter.

  I like to give necklaces too, I say.

  It’s not a necklace, Hanifa corrects me. What I’m giving Mariamar is our ancient thread of time. All the women in the family counted the months of their pregnancy on this long string.

  Mariamar is moved by this gift. A shadow passes over her eyes and she drops the notebook. As it lies half open on the ground, I read the first of its pages. These are the words: “God was once a woman…” I smile. At that moment, I’m surrounded by goddesses. From both sides of that farewell, in that rupturing of worlds, it’s women who stitch together my own ruptured story. I contemplate the clouds as they advance with the ponderous, contorted step of pregnancy. It won’t be long before it rains. In Palma, the woman I’ve been waiting for all my life awaits me.

  * * *

  Once in the jeep, with Mariamar sitting beside me, I utter a clumsy goodbye.

  Goodbye, Hanifa.

  Did you count the lions?

  I’ve known how many there were ever since the day I arrived.

  You know how many. But you don’t know who they are.

  You’re right. That’s a skill I’ll never learn.

  You know very well: There were three lions. There’s still one left.

  I look around as if surveying the landscape. It’s the last time I shall see Kulumani. It’s the last time I shall hear this woman. With due respect for final goodbyes, Hanifa Assulua whispers:

  I am the last lioness. That’s the secret only you know, Archangel Bullseye.

  Why are you telling me this, Dona Hanifa?

  This is my confession. This is the thread of time I place in your hands.

  A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Mia Couto, born in Beira, Mozambique, in 1955, is one of the most prominent writers in Portuguese-speaking Africa. After studying medicine and biology in Maputo, he worked as a journalist and headed the AIM news agency. Couto has been awarded several important literary prizes, including the Vergílio Ferreira Prize and the Latin Union Award for Romance Literatures, among others, and he is a finalist for the 2015 Man Booker International Prize. He lives in Maputo, where he works as a biologist. You can sign up for email updates here.

  Also by Mia Couto

  ENGLISH

  Voices Made Night

  Every Man Is a Race

  Sleepwalking Land

  Under the Frangipani

  The Last Flight of the Flamingo

  A River Called Time

  The Blind Fisherman

  The Tuner of Silences

  PORTUGUESE

  Raiz do Orvalho

  Cada Homem É uma Raça

  Cronicando

  Estórias Abensonhadas

  Contos do Nascer da Terra

  Mar Me Quer

  Vinte e Zinco

  Raiz de orvalho e outros poemas

  Mar me quer

  O Gato e o Escuro

  Na Berma de Nenhuma Estrada e Outros Contos

  Um Rio Chamado Tempo, uma Casa Chamada Terra

  Contos do Nascer da Terra

  O País do Queixa Andar

  O Fio das Missangas

  A chuva pasmada

  Pensatempos: Textos de opinião

  O Outro Pé da Sereia

  Venenos de Deus, Remédios do Diabo

  O Beijo da Palavrinha

  Jesusalém

  Tradutor de Chuvas

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Epigraph

  Author’s Note

  Mariamar’s Version: One

  The News

  The Hunter’s Diary: One

  The Advertisement

  Mariamar’s Version: Two

  Return from the River

  The Hunter’s Diary: Two

  The Journey

  Mariamar’s Version: Three

  An Unreadable Memory

  The Hunter’s Diary: Three

  A Long, Unfinished Letter

  Mariamar’s Version: Four

  The Blind Road

  The Hunter’s Diary: Four

  Rituals and Ambushes

  Mariamar’s Version: Five

  Some Honey Eyes

  The Hunter’s Diary: Five

  The Living Bone of a Dead Hyena

  Mariamar’s Version: Six

  A River Without Sea

  The Hunter’s Diary: Six

  The Reencounter

  Mariamar’s Version: Seven

  The Ambush

  The Hunter’s Diary: Seven

  The Demon Saint

  Mariamar’s Version: Eight

  Blood of a Beast, a Woman’s Tear

  The Hunter’s Diary: Eight

  Flowers for the Living

  A Note About the Author

  Also by Mia Couto

  Copyright

  Farrar, Straus and Giroux

  18 West 18th Street, New York 10011

  Copyright © 2012 by Editorial Caminho

  Translation copyright © 2015 by David Brookshaw

  All rights reserved

  Originally published in 2012 by Editorial Caminho, Portugal, as A Confissão da Leoa

  English translation published in the United States by Farrar, Straus and Giroux

  First American edition, 2015

  eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Couto, Mia, 1955–

  [Confissão da leoa. English]

  Confession of the lioness / Mia Couto; translated from the Portuguese / by David Brookshaw. — First American edition.

  pages cm

  ISBN 978-0-374-12923-1 (hardcover) — ISBN 978-0-374-71095-8 (e-book)

  I. Brookshaw, David, translator. II. Title.

  PQ9939.C68 C6613 2015

  869.3’42—dc23

  2014039381

  www.fsgbooks.com

  www.twitter.com/fsgbooks • www.facebook.com/fsgbooks

 


 

  Mia Couto, Confession of the Lioness

 


 

 
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