Nyarari’s eyes opened up late in the night. The hut was totally dark and snores abounded the hut. She could feel someone lying right beside her. She sat up and was about to move her palm across the body to feel the person’s breath when some forces held her back. What if the person was a man, and in fact her husband? She cowed.
She laid herself back in the bark-cloth bedding and thought about the previous day’s undertakings. She wanted to stop blaming herself for the sin she had committed, but however much she tried, the feeling of guilt kep
When Okayo woke up that morning, he felt his bones cracking and his head aching terribly. For the first time since he got married, he had slept with Otolo and his younger siblings in his deceased grandparent’s hut. The kids had woken up at the crack of dawn and left him still sleeping. He was not sure whether he had done the right thing, though he knew that going away from Nyarari had barred him from doing the most obnoxious – beating her up.He sat up and strained his eyes around the hut. The bedding, now a large thin sheet made of crimped sisals and barkcloth, and the dry cow-dung falling from the walls filled him with nostalgia. He thought about his deceased grandmother and the beautiful tales she would narrate to them before going to bed. He thought: if only she was alive, then he would explain to her the challenges he was facing in life and, perhaps, find a consolation to his flaming soul. But she was long gone and the only
The land lay in ruins, quietly mourning for her treasure - her injured men, her offsprings gunned down and cattle and grains plundered in the harsh rebellion. The once beautiful leafy and rocky Seme now resembled a lifeless wasteland, boding a future wrought with hardship. The war was over, but the pain was unbearable. Voices of women bewailing their sons and husbands slain in the resistance were all over hell's half an acre. Most of the clan's thuondi (warriors) who were lucky to survive the dreadful warfare had been captured by the Blue-eyed and no one knew their whereabouts. A few, however, who managed to escape by hiding in caves and groves, returned home with broken legs and arms, and the sound of gunshots fading between their ears. It seemed to be the end of days to a people who had lived peacefully, less interrupted by any external force, except for the usual acceptable raids between local communities. These repercussions
"Tangu Tangu...," called out one of the boys in the group. His name was Okayo. "Eee (yeees)," chorused the rest. "Nyang' omaka (the crocodile has clutched me)." "Eee. Omako ang'oni (Yeees. Which part of you has it clutched)?" "Omako tienda (it has clutched my leg)." He then dived into the water and the others too dived looking for him. "Ayude (I've found him)!" shouted another, resurfacing with Okayo on his back. The others rejoiced. "Tangu, Tangu," called out another. "Eee," chorused the rest, and the game continued. It was the dramatization of an old folklore in which a fishing crew (Tangu) dared the torrent waves and sea beasts to save the life of a boy seized by a crocodile while bathing at the shore of Nam Lolwe, the great lake of the people.
Men and women together with their youngsters toddling behind them walked towards the clan-shrine, an enormous ng'ow tree at the bank of River Awach. Octogenarians who held the tribes customs tightly in their brains trudged downstream, along the meandering footpaths in the forests, on both sides of the river. But the morning appeared to be sullen due to the contradictions and confusions posed by the new faith. Long before, all folks in this clan had dwelt together, united by a common faith. Nobody had ever thought of committing any traitorous tort against the traditions of the society. However, when the Blue-eyed made their way into Seme, people who had lived a cultured way of life began drifting into sin one by one. Perhaps they had not fully comprehended what the new faith meant or, as the remaining conservatives now held, they had been beguiled into it. But one day everything would become as open as day unto these people. The Blue-eyed seemed to h
It was the beginning of a new planting season, the one called opon, and men and women were busy hoeing in the hot sun. It was really dreadful working in the scorching heat without any sign of rain stirring up in the sky. The ground was stiff and farmers were covered in thick clouds of dust. When one stood on a sunken ground, the ground above - in the distance - seemed to be releasing hot vapours into the atmosphere. No one could dare walk on bare feet for the fear of developing serious burns. Frogs did not croak in streams and ponds, and birds of the air chanted no more in the morning. The mornings were as chilly and heartbreaking as mountain snow and the mid-days as calm and cruelly
The sun was high up in the sky yet Okayo had not woken up. He would be late for the ceremony. The drumbeats were so loud signaling the beginning of a life-mark occasion, one that would be both a reincarnation and emancipation from childhood prejudices. Okayo would now be a full man, ready to take part in onerous tribal and clan affairs. Because of the circumstances surrounding his life, his father had opted for him to undergo the ritual without delay. He was only fifteen yet he had the brain capacity of a full grown-up. The previous evening had been filled with all manner of preparations. The candidates had to be carefully instructed on the prerequisites for the ritual, of which self-assurance was on the front foot. They also had to express readiness and maturity for the occasion. The ritual was strictly meant for boys and girls who had come of age and had remained chaste until then; coition was only allowed in marriage. The initiates wo
There was an outcry in the countryside. The land was dry and empty. Trees barely had any leaf. Caprids were skinny and a good number of them died due to lack of vegetation. Wells dried up and rivers got low. The land became tougher and rugged day by day, puffing up dust in the air, while the scorching midday sun left many with terrible burns in their feet. But they still had to work in the plantations to pay taxes and take their children to school. As days went by, conservatives turned against converts and started blaming them for the severity in the land. The grim reaper was drawing nigh. No sign of rain stirred up in the sky; it was all blue and still. Doubt strove within. Omolo was the leader of the converts. He had been easily won over by the underlying mysteries of the new faith, but even to that very day, he understood little about the hypostasis of Jesus Christ. He belonged to the large group of converts who believed that what the Blue-
Life at the mission center was not what the boys had expected it to be. There was more work than learning for the African kid than the Blue-eyed's. They were only taught on Mondays and Tuesdays. The rest of the days were lined up with numerous activities running from work on the cotton and maize plantations to cleaning the school compound, classrooms, dormitories and the commercial section. But at least they were happy to be drinking from the Blue-eyed's cup of knowledge. There were about five hundred of them at the center - both juvenile and mature boys and girls. They came from all over the province - Nyanza - and even as sparsely habituated as towards Western, Central and the Great Rift. The academic standards were, notwithstanding, kept high. Only a few who performed meritoriously proceeded to the next levels. The rest were divided into two groups, the weak and the robust. The weak would move about wearing many hats, helping in the farms and