“Hurry up! We’ll be late!” My mother’s annoyed voice drifted down the hall. I groaned. I did not want to go to the chiefing ceremony. But Mother was insistant.

    I darted out of the washroom. My mom was outside already. I hurried to catch up. We walked to the center of our village, where my tribe was gathered. Everyone wore black  clothes, despite the heat, signifying our grief for our dead chief.

    The chief’s son stood on a platform, along with our tribe’s healer, ready to say his vows to become the next chief.

    The ceremony proceeded very slowly. I got bored out of my mind, already having been through one of these before So, naturally, my mind started wandering.

    I almost, almost started laughing when one of the younger village girls whispered to me about how the chiefs of our tribe were dropping like flies. But, as hard as I tried to restrain a laugh, a snort still escaped.

    Several women turned to glare at me. One snapped that it was improper for a young lady such as myself to snort, or whatever.

    Angry, I started thinking about women rights. I had heard many of the young boys snort and laugh. It seriously wasn’t fair.

Then, some little voice in my head screamed at me. Had there ever been female chiefs? I’d never heard such a thing. Why haven’t there been? Women are generally more level-headed than men. Women could surely be chiefs too.

    Maybe this train of thought was why I always get in trouble.