Spanish sexuality journalist, Brenda B. Lennox explores Rwanda's kunyaza legend in this erotic tale about a woman's journey to gushing pleasure after discovering the sacred technique to female ejaculation.
Kunyaza
I met Kamagere in the presentation of the book Gaal Gui (The cayuco) of my friend Youssouf Sow, in which he tells his odyssey from Senegal to Mauritania and his journey in cayuco to Spain. Kamagere had also emigrated and suffered slavery in inhuman factories, the abuse of the mafias, the long journey across the Mediterranean in defiance of death, the deep pain of seeing his comrades die and how the sailors threw their corpses into the sea, the impotence of being confined to the detention centers upon their arrival in the “Promised Land”, the humiliation of selling pirated DVDs. However, a perpetual smile illuminated his ebony face. He was alive, not like all his friends and family that were killed by machetes during the genocide. He was alive, yes. And he honoured life.
He invited me to take a coffee in his house. I accepted. We spoke about his country, Rwanda, that of the Great Lakes, that of the thousand hills, that of the million dead.
"What does your name mean?" I asked. He blushed.
"The legend tells that many years ago, the queen asked a soldier named Kamagere to satisfy her. The king was always absent in his military campaigns and she felt the fire of volcanoes burning inside her. Kamagere was nervous, his body trembled uncontrollably and the tremor gave such pleasure to the queen that water gushed out of her sex. From then on, men searched inside women for the sacred spring. And when it flows, we bathe in the water that flows from their land, source of life, in a baptism of fire."
I met Kamagere in the presentation of the book Gaal Gui (The cayuco) of my friend Youssouf Sow, in which he tells his odyssey from Senegal to Mauritania and his journey in cayuco to Spain. Kamagere had also emigrated and suffered slavery in inhuman factories, the abuse of the mafias, the long journey across the Mediterranean in defiance of death, the deep pain of seeing his comrades die and how the sailors threw their corpses into the sea, the impotence of being confined to the detention centers upon their arrival in the “Promised Land”, the humiliation of selling pirated DVDs. However, a perpetual smile illuminated his ebony face. He was alive, not like all his friends and family that were killed by machetes during the genocide. He was alive, yes. And he honoured life.
He invited me to take a coffee in his house. I accepted. We spoke about his country, Rwanda, that of the Great Lakes, that of the thousand hills, that of the million dead.
"What does your name mean?" I asked. He blushed.
"The legend tells that many years ago, the queen asked a soldier named Kamagere to satisfy her. The king was always absent in his military campaigns and she felt the fire of volcanoes burning inside her. Kamagere was nervous, his body trembled uncontrollably and the tremor gave such pleasure to the queen that water gushed out of her sex. From then on, men searched inside women for the sacred spring. And when it flows, we bathe in the water that flows from their land, source of life, in a baptism of fire."
Passion by Lamark Crosby
I got excited. I wanted to feel the pleasure of the queen, the vibration of his sex into my sex, the flow of my wellspring over his face. I kissed him and his mouth responded me. The tongues played while we undressed. The bodies intertwined in a perfect yin and yang.
He laid me on the bed and spread my legs. He stretched my lower lips and sucked them to moisten them. He brought his erect member to my vulva and caressed it tracing lines, circles, spirals. He inserted the glans and I raised my hip, but he held me gently and remained motionless. His eyes ordered and I gave up. He continued to fuck me the entrance of my sex with geometric figures, pushing slowly until touched the bottom, taking it out again to caress my vulva, fucking the entrance of my sex with geometric figures, pushing slowly until touched the bottom over and over and over again.
The walls of my vagina vibrated like a drum. My body danced to the beat of its ancestral music. Its atavistic rhythm cracked the dam and I flowed like a waterfall.
"Amavangigo!" He cried, as he bathed in it.
He laid me on the bed and spread my legs. He stretched my lower lips and sucked them to moisten them. He brought his erect member to my vulva and caressed it tracing lines, circles, spirals. He inserted the glans and I raised my hip, but he held me gently and remained motionless. His eyes ordered and I gave up. He continued to fuck me the entrance of my sex with geometric figures, pushing slowly until touched the bottom, taking it out again to caress my vulva, fucking the entrance of my sex with geometric figures, pushing slowly until touched the bottom over and over and over again.
The walls of my vagina vibrated like a drum. My body danced to the beat of its ancestral music. Its atavistic rhythm cracked the dam and I flowed like a waterfall.
"Amavangigo!" He cried, as he bathed in it.
Land
I was reborn with Kamagere and languished when he left. Rwanda needed his strength to resurface after pain and death. It hurt me, we both knew it was the end of ours, but who was I to prevent the return of a son? The months passed and I withered without his voice telling me legends, without his smile scaring my demons, without the sacred water that he made sprout of my sex.
I could not help it, I called him to confess that I missed him.
"I feel empty without you. You made me queen, land, river".
"Daughter of the earth, source of life. The sacred water inhabits you. Does a wellspring need a man to flow like a river after the rain?"
I was reborn with Kamagere and languished when he left. Rwanda needed his strength to resurface after pain and death. It hurt me, we both knew it was the end of ours, but who was I to prevent the return of a son? The months passed and I withered without his voice telling me legends, without his smile scaring my demons, without the sacred water that he made sprout of my sex.
I could not help it, I called him to confess that I missed him.
"I feel empty without you. You made me queen, land, river".
"Daughter of the earth, source of life. The sacred water inhabits you. Does a wellspring need a man to flow like a river after the rain?"
The end-of-call beeps resounded like a drum: water, life, land, land, LAND…
I lay down on the bed and walked, slowly, over the land of my body: the mountain peaks, the fertile hills, the grass-covered mountain . I went into its depths, with closed eyes, guiding me with my fingers. The walls oozed like those of a cenote, burned like a volcanic tube, vibrated announcing the underground current. I caressed the crack that separated me from it and the sacred water gushed like a river, overflowed my sex, flowed between my thighs. And I received it with my hands to rain on my land and be fertile again.
"Amavangigo," I whispered. “Amavangigo, Kamagere. Amavangigo.”
I lay down on the bed and walked, slowly, over the land of my body: the mountain peaks, the fertile hills, the grass-covered mountain . I went into its depths, with closed eyes, guiding me with my fingers. The walls oozed like those of a cenote, burned like a volcanic tube, vibrated announcing the underground current. I caressed the crack that separated me from it and the sacred water gushed like a river, overflowed my sex, flowed between my thighs. And I received it with my hands to rain on my land and be fertile again.
"Amavangigo," I whispered. “Amavangigo, Kamagere. Amavangigo.”
Author's note
Kunyaza is a term given to a traditional sexual practice, developed and practiced mainly in Central Africa (in some regions of Rwanda, Congo, eastern Uganda and eastern Tanzania) and the Great Lakes region in East Africa, which is intended to facilitate female ejaculation.
Amavangigo is the liquid excreted during kunyaza. It is thick, transparent, slightly sticky and odourless. It is considered the source of life.
Brenda B. Lennox
Kunyaza is a term given to a traditional sexual practice, developed and practiced mainly in Central Africa (in some regions of Rwanda, Congo, eastern Uganda and eastern Tanzania) and the Great Lakes region in East Africa, which is intended to facilitate female ejaculation.
Amavangigo is the liquid excreted during kunyaza. It is thick, transparent, slightly sticky and odourless. It is considered the source of life.
Brenda B. Lennox
RSS Feed