My name is Moses – Part 3

Nubia was a beautiful young woman. Her father, Baahir, was one of Pharaoh’s Scribes who kept records and recopied older texts. I had been assigned as his assistant. It was a natural marriage arrangement. She was fourteen years old at the time, and I had just turned twenty-one.

We were established within the family of her grandparents and parents. Our room was added on when the decision for marriage was reached. It took a bit of time to complete our room as it was rather large. The sandstone was cut to specifications and transported to the site by Hebrew slaves. After it’s completion, Nubia’s were brought in. She had her loom, grain grinders, food preparation bowls and utensils.

Nubia’s mother had taught her to make clay busts and other artwork which were fired to a beautiful glaze after shaping and painting. She and her mother sold many items of clay and cloth at the markets along the banks of the Nile. They were well versed at using the different spindles to make yarn and thread, but they could also spin with just their hands, which was quite “handy.” They were also weavers, using the tabby weave, the halfbasket weave, and the looped or soumak weave for creating designs in the cloth.

As the day of marriage finally arrived, all the family were gathered for the signing of the contracts. When that was complete so was the marriage. Afterward the table was set, and loaded up with rare beef, roast goose, fresh fish, cheese, all kinds of fruits and vegetables, and, of course, the best beer. It was a good meal, after which Nubia and I retired to our new room, and our life together began. 

All went well for several years. We were blessed with three sons and three daughters. Nubia’s brother, Darius, had married about the same time. With their children being close to the same ages as ours, it was natural to arrange their marriages. 

I worked closely with Baahir, and we grew to have a wonderful trust between us. He encouraged me to make copies of all the records for my own personal property. It was a wonderful time with the family, and the years passed quickly. 

The only burden I carried was a thorn I could not really describe, at the time. Over time, the cruelty of the Egyptian task masters increased. Our weekend walks through the many construction sites were increasingly worrisome to me as I watched the whips land on the backs of my brethren. The women were berated with lewd comments from the men with whips. Nubia, also, was bothered by the rude, cruel habits of the task masters. Because of this she accompanied me less and less frequently, on my visits to my family.

To be continued - Part 4.