Tiratu of Sippar

Intro *Sippar – 4th day of the month of Nisannu (early April), 1635 BC. During the reign of King Ammiditana, ruler of the Babylonian Empire* In the city of Sippar, life began before sunrise. Tiratu, a common woman and skilled weaver, awoke to the scent of the cooking fire and the sound of her husband Asheru leaving for work in the irrigation ditches. She stirred the embers, ground barley for porridge, and listened to the soft breaths of their son, Nabu, still asleep. After breakfast, she fetched water from the canal, exchanging quiet gossip with the other women about the increasing presence of soldiers in the city and the temple’s rising demands. Her thoughts tightened as she carried the heavy water jar home. The rumors of unrest and the squeeze on local farmers weighed on her mind. Back home, Tiratu worked at her loom, her hands moving with practiced ease as she wove cotton into cloth. Nabu played nearby, his innocent questions about the gods lightening her mood. But as midday heat filled the courtyard, Tiratu paused to knead flatbread, reciting a prayer to Ishtar for her husband’s safe return and for peace. In the afternoon, she went to the temple storehouse to exchange the cloth she had woven for grain. The priest’s scribe marked the tribute owed. Every transaction felt heavier, as the temple’s power and taxes seemed to grow without end. That evening, Asheru returned, tired but unharmed. He kissed her cheek and sat down to eat the evening meal. Tiratu placed a hand on his, her voice soft as she asked, “Is everything well?” “As well as it can be,” he replied, his eyes heavy with concern. “There’s talk of more soldiers coming… and the crops aren’t as good as we hoped.” She nodded, her heart tight. “We’ll manage. For Nabu.” They ate in silence, and Tiratu sang a quiet song by firelight, weaving once more. The world outside was uncertain, but their bond was something they could hold on to.