Illumine Her
Authors: Sieni A.M.
Illumine Her
A novel by
Sieni A.M.
Copyright © 2013 by Sieni A.M.
Cover design by Sarah Hansen,
Okay Creations
Cover photo by
Tim McKenna
Model: T
eraina Constanzo
Editor: Maxann Dobson,
The Polished Pen
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademarked owners.
Table of Contents
Glossary
Siapo:
Tapa/bark cloth
Aiga:
Family
Fale:
Traditional Samoan house
Anak
: Child in Tagalog
Soso
: Someone who laughs uncontrollably
To’onai:
Feast
Talo:
Taro
Fa’i:
Banana
Luau:
Local dish
Koko
: Cocoa
Teuila
: Red ginger flower
Elei:
Samoan patterned design
Kiga Kaliga:
Ears hurting/sore ears
Lavalava:
Sarong
Pele
: Term of endearment meaning beloved
Tama
: Father
Sei:
Flower worn over the ear
Siva:
Dance
Ua e iloa?
You hear me?
Ea lau kala?
What did you say?
Moso’oi:
Fragrant ylang ylang flower
Fa’afetai. Fa’afetai lava
: Thank you very much.
‘Ava:
Root of the kava plant
Tanoa:
Traditional wooden bowl
Keke saiga:
Chinese cookie
Malo le ogosa’i:
Well done on being patient
Tusitala:
Storyteller
Saofa’i:
Chiefly titles’ ceremony
Tama’ita’i
: Girl
Feau:
Chores
Fa’aaloalo:
Respect
Ili
: Fan
Sole
: Greeting used towards a guy
Mi casa es su casa:
My House is your House
Palagi:
Foreigner
Fiafia:
Happy/Celebration
Sapasui
: Chop suey
Faikakala:
Nosy
Kaukalaikiki:
Cheeky/naughty
Po’u
: Sores
Vae
: Legs
Pa’ulua:
Singing in a flat tone
Puletasi
: Traditional Samoan dress for women
Apo:
Grandchild in Tagalog
Ti polo:
Tea made from lemon leaves
Keke pua’a
: Pork buns
Moemimi
: Little brat
Pisupo:
Corned beef
Salu
: Broom
Halu
: Word used to shoo dogs/animals away
Ie faitaga
: Traditional formal wear for men
Dedication
For all nurses working tirelessly in Samoa and in the Pacific region.
Also for my beloved grandmother who was a nurse for forty years.
Prologue
Samoa, 1918
T
he last of the day’s light was slowly losing its battle against the approaching twilight, its accompanying opaque horizon threatening to plummet the village into darkness in a matter of minutes. The small islands and their inhabitants prepared to bid the sun farewell in their customary way: sequestered indoors, chanting prayers and songs. Extended families gathered in their homes, sitting cross legged on the hard floor with their heads bowed, and young children tucked closely to their parents’ sides. One strong voice would begin, and they would all join in a unified choral effort. Words of praise and thanksgiving would be sung for the simple meal they were about to consume; for the well-being and happiness of their families; for the hope and anticipation of a safe and productive day the following morning.
But the chanting this evening would be vastly different from anything the people had ever experienced before. It would be far from ordinary, far from the norm. The prayers offered would be laced with a sorrow so deep, the songs of despair punctuated by painful cries and sobs. Mothers would be huddled with young ones beside them, tearfully mourning the lifeless bundle wrapped in
siapo
cloth in the center of the room: a father, a beloved grandfather, an uncle—the patriarch of the
aiga
. Titles and roles that guaranteed a life lived with love. Love from a wife, a daughter, a granddaughter. A life savagely cut short by a foreign disease that promised no hope once your family was affected.
***
There was nothing he could do. The disease was fast moving, killing slowly but quickly.
The man’s throat tightened and he closed his eyes in agony in an attempt to block out the tormented sobs of mourning in the little
fale
. With heavy feet he shuffled out of the warm house covered with woven pandanus leaves to the soothing fresh air that came from the sea. It was dusk and a sudden quiet had descended on the village. The houses dotting the village perimeter were beginning to flicker with light from the lamps within. With the clang of the evening bell, the chanting resounded, breaking the silence and surrounding his still form.
