Chapter 1

    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 left everyone mouth-bound, including Osayo, the clan's jadolo (priest) who believed Nyasaye, the creator of his people, and the juogi (spirits of the dead) would stand firm to defend his people in those times of crisis. He sat under a tree in his homestead mulling over the past and trying to see whether there was any preponderant straw for his community to clutch onto. He was lucky to have not been hit by the tragedy. His eldest son, Otieno, who would have joined the group of thuondi had been sick at the time the war broke out on the land. 

    For a long time, the people of Asembo, Gem, Uyoma, Ugenya, Alego, Kisuma and Seme had traded together and enjoyed harmonious living. But when the Blue-eyed came, jo-Asembo (the people of Asembo) and jo-Gem (the people of Gem), led by their ruoth (chief), Odera Akang'o, joined hands with the strangers. It was said Ruoth Akang'o had been influenced by his friend Nabongo Mumia, the chief of the neighbouring Wanga Kingdom, who was growing rich by the Blue-eyed's costly items and extending his political influence.

    The others rebelled the Blue-eyed's invasion. Then war broke out in the countryside. Osayo remembered that woeful night when the Blue-eyed invaded their land and looted a large portion of their cattle and grains. That was the night that utterly destroyed their peaceful coexistence. He believed the decision they made after that unprecedented attack was the greatest mistake they ever made as a clan. A few days after the rapine, Ruoth Angolo Otaye of Seme deployed his group of thuondi to Akado, the market that bordered Seme and Asembo, to wield an attack on jo-Asembo and drive them away. They accused them of letting the border loose by collaborating with the Blue-eyed. A large number lost their lives as the warriors descended upon jo-Asembo and drove them away from Akado.

    "That attack on our own blood was unnecessary...um... the blue-eyed planned for it," Osayo thought out aloud. He believed the Blue-eyed must have choreographed the blood and thunder fight between the two chiefdoms because it did not take too long before they entered the war in defense of Odera's territory. They came with a stranger weapon though, a weapon that no one had ever seen before. People said it resembled the thigh of a cow and sparked fire when touched. The great wonder was that when pointed at someone, the weapon released a gizmo along with flakes of fire that struck the target to death. Was it anything small to be compared to the spears, slings and stones that the warriors from Seme carried in their hands?

    When the warriors saw that they would be wiped out, they began to retreat one by one to their cachette which was the chief's hut constructed on a small hill. They used it as a watchtower over their enemies during war. The chief's mikayi (first wife), Akelo, who lived in the hut, was believed to possess powerful magic and could cast or drive away evil spells. Such people were called ajuoke (witchdoctors). Osayo remembered one time when Otieno his son was attacked by an evil spirit at a tender age. They had to consult Akelo, and just as they entered her hut, she cried out, "What do you want from this boy, Opinya? Get out of him quickly." Then she grabbed the child into her arms and sprinkled on him a concoction she had in the hut. The child cried for some time before quieting down, and that was how he got exorcised of the evil spirit. Akelo also hinted to Osayo that he would have another son who would have the gift of foreseeing the future but his mind would be distructed by obsession for a strange and powerful knowledge. They rewarded her with two sacks of sorghum and a sack of green gram. Such were important for loko dhoch (turning back the evil spirit to its origin).

    Akelo was also believed to have predicted the Blue-eyed's invasion. It was said that there was one night when she spoke a lot in her dream of 'a people with long hair and blue eyes, carrying fire in their arms' who would grab land and turn everyone into a slave. But no one understood her prophecy, and so it went forth like a passing wind.

    When the Blue-eyed realized that the soldiers were getting lost in the thick forest as days went by, they pursued them to the hideout. They captured Odhiambo, the clan's osumba mruai (war leader) and Ruoth Otaye and killed the whole number that was undergoing herbal treatment in Akelo's hut. But when they finally pulled the trigger on Akelo's chest, she scared the daylights out of them by crying out aloud, perhaps the loudest they had ever heard. Those who were around said her voice sounded like thunder. Red flakes of fire appeared at the rooftop and the hillock was shaken as the wattle-and-clay abode turned into stones. And immediately she fell onto the floor, an opening of a clear stream running to the bottom of the hillock appeared on the floor of the stone house and swallowed her body. Mystified, the Blue-eyed grabbed Odhiambo and Ruoth Otaye and scooted away from the dreadful site.

    A few days later, news went rife that the chief had been killed and his body found dumped by the river, but Odhiambo's fate still remained unknown. The clan went into a seven-day mourning period for their cherished leader. During this time, Osayo ordered young men to fetch all the bodies of thuondi and ordinary clan people murdered in the rebellion. And the number was so huge that by the time they would be done burying each of them in their homes, a good number would have decayed. Osayo, therefore, ordered the youth to dig up three large graves around Got Oruga where all the corpses were laid to rest. Since then, people visited the mountain once in awhile to meet their fallen great-relatives. There, they would invoke their names in times of distress and offer sacrifices of sweet meat to appease them.

    After the seven-day mourning, the chief also was laid to rest in his home. All the great grandchildren of Gumba and Dipirr came together with their children to witness the burial of their ruoth. They cried and moaned with their faces cast to the ground lest the rains refuse to fall and drought strike the land. And as traditions required that a grave be prepared for everyone who died, a fruit was picked from the traditional yago tree and buried in the grave of Akelo. Moreover, a large grave was dug and more fruits picked and buried in honour of the soldiers whose bodies could not be traced. People held their hearts in sorrow as they dispersed to their homes. When evening came, there was a heavy downpour throughout the land, one that seemed to cleanse the land from all the atrocities that had been done in it. To this day, the place where these fruit burials were done is called Yago and the stone house where the corpse of Akelo disappeared is called Kit Mikayi (the stone of the first wife). 

     After all these painful occasions, Osayo knew it was his time, as the third in power, to take up the clan's leadership before Otaye's ten-season old child, Ogoma, came of age. The decision to enthrone him, however, lay with the clan elders and would soon be decided in buch piny (clan meeting). He desired leadership, but as a priest, he knew that the first step in strengthening the clan was to draw the people back to Nyasaye, their source of life. He reminisced his fathers saying 'aora morwenyo chakne two' (a river that forgets it's source dries up), and wished that that would not be the case with his beloved nation. 

    Just as he stood up to get back into his hut, a boy about seventeen seasons old, bare-chest and with a banana leaf tied around his waist to conceal his nudity, arrived with a bell in his hands.

    "Good evening, jadolo," greeted the boy bowing.

    "Good evening, boy. What is this that you are carrying?" asked Osayo, getting nibbled by curiosity.

    "I don't know, jadolo, but I have received it from someone along the way as I was coming from the lake... someone tall, white... with a pointed nose, long hair... . He said so many things I could not understand, and then he gave it to me and left... I only heard your name. And... and besides, you're our leader now... . So...take... take it." He held out the bell in front of Osayo.

    "No. I am not taking into my house what I don't know, my son. Look, take it back to him and tell him to come and see me in person. OK?"

    "But he is far gone by now, jadolo. And I don't know the direction he took."

    "Fine. Take it to Odalo. Do you know him?" Odalo was dodo (clan elder) from Kolunje.

    "Yes. Wuon Otieno (Otieno's father)?"

    "Yes, Wuon Otieno."

    "OK. What should I tell him?"

    "That let him consider what it is. And... tell him to hold onto it awhile. 

    "And what if he too refu..."

    "Get moving! Stop asking too many idle questions. Choke!" Osayo leered at the boy.

    "OK, jadolo. I'm... I'm sorry." With that, the boy stood up and left. Osayo walked into his hut. He wondered what the gadget was and had been to convey.

                                 ***

    It was the fourteenth main cock-crow, yet only a few elders had turned up for the clan meeting. An aura of silence pervaded Osayo's duol (a man's hut that he does not share with his wives) where a handful of elders, all wearing hides around their groins, sat nervously waiting for the meeting to kick off. It had been decided by consensus at the chief's burial that the next meeting be held at Osayo's after the chief's home where it used to be conducted was hard hit by atrocious and astonishing acts in the wake of rebellion. It seemed those war imprints still menaced the security of people. Elsewise, the hut would by now be full of elders from all the villages.

    The future of the clan lay in the hands of these elders. They were tasked with deciding how the chief's stool would be preserved and the next step of actions against the Blue-eyed's invasion, among other emerging issues. The shadows of their fallen warriors still stood erect in their minds and kept harrying them to put the clan's leadership onto the right political trajectory. Otaye's eldest son was only ten seasons old and someone had to be chosen in line with chike (customary laws) to act as the chief until the child came of age.

    Osayo walked into the hut and sat on a stool. He wondered what had happened to the elders. Why were they, including his brother Ogola who was just a stone-throw away, taking too long to arrive? They would by now be in the mid of their discussion had the meeting commenced as usual. He sat silently thinking about the past and the future of his people. He thought about the catastrophic rebellion, the slain warriors, the missing warriors and war leader, the happenings at Chief Otaye's home, the dilemma of choosing a new chief... he thought too much and for too long until another cock crow ousted him from his wool-gathering. Then he returned his looks onto his fellow elders. They were all carried away into different worlds, chins rested on fists, legs lifted onto each other, hands closed on their chests and eyes looking at nonentities, yet dusk was only one cockcrow away. He stood up.

    "Brothers. Time is much spent, and there's no sign of more elders arriving. What do you propose we do, seeing that this number does not meet the quorum of our meeting?" he posed while all looks turned onto him.

    "I suggest we proceed with the meeting," proposed one elder.

    "Yes. Why should Hare wait for Tortoise anyway?" seconded an elder at the back. They all laughed.

    "Let's say what we can and do what we ought to, brothers," seconded yet another. Others murmured and objected in sotto voce tones.

    "OK. OK. I think the opinion of many is that we proceed, and proceeding we shall, brothers. This meeting is important and should not be called off for the mere sake of people who care less about the future of our clan."

    "Yes," someone dropped his approval.

    "And so, I call upon our brother Ochienge to steer this meeting." He sat down. Ochienge, the elder who had given the first suggestion to proceed with the meeting, stood up and walked to the front.

    "Brothers and fellow elders of this great clan, we cannot miss this chance. No, we cannot. We have quite a lot to discuss and amend, from the past to the present and the future of our clan. Fellow elders, allow me, allow me to bring it to your attention that the Blue-eyed have already begun constructing two houses on our soil."

    "Yea. I heard so," ascertained one elder.

    "Oh, that's too bad. The Blue-eyed have denigrated us to nothing," decried another.

    "Who gave them the soil?" asked Osayo.

    "Nobody. I'm not sure whether they have spoken to any of us. I'm not," replied Ochienge.

    "It's because we don't have a chief to talk on our behalf," someone put in.

    "And that's exactly why we are here today. Fellow elders, what do you suppose we do?"

    "Let's choose one of us in accordance with our laws to act as the chief for the time being," someone suggested.

     "No. We can't do that. It'd split us apart," objected another.

    "Yes, we can. What other option do we have?" asked another.

    "Let's choose someone from the chief's lineage," suggested the elder who had objected.

    "That would be a serious mistake, brothers. Those boys will ruin everything. They barely know anything about leadership," explained Osayo. "And a child is never allowed to sit on the stool. As we all know, the chief has a responsibility to train his eldest son in the ways of the people and on leadership tactics until he is come of age. But the chief is gone and Ogoma is still not ripe for the stool. Neither are his distant relatives who know nothing about leadership. You see that? We have to choose someone with the clan's interests at heart, someone who has held a position before, someone who will train Ogoma how to lead his people. And that someone, fellow elders, has to be one of us."

    "I agree with you," said the elder at the back. "We can't give Swine a fine clean hide, he'd soak it in the mud. He'd rise up spirited and kick about in the swamps, thikili thakala chubwi, there, king of detritus." He gesticulated while he spoke. The whole hut broke into laughter.

    "You... you know it just too well, brother," said Ochienge, still laughing.

    Then someone entered the hut suddenly, gasping like a thief on the run.

    "Hey! Calm down. You've scared everybody. Everybody. What's up with you, Odalo?" said Ochienge, turning confusedly at the elderly man standing at the door.

    "Um... fellow... fellow elders. I... I had to come hurriedly," he said, fighting for his breath. "Things have gone sour... they are chasing after... after people, children, the youth... and the elderly, and... and dressing them with something... something strange."

    "What? Who are you talking about? The Blue-eyed? They're here again?" asked Osayo.

    "Yes. The Blue-eyed. They are here. They came in something big, moving, howling," said Odalo. "And I've come along with... fellow elders, you need to see this." He pulled the bell out of a traditional leather bag he was carrying and gave it to Ochienge. "Look at it. Wonders of this world. Who has ever seen anything like that? Could the priest please tell us where he found it?" The elders passed the bell from one person to another, examining it keenly.

    "Did you just say the priest found it? Where? Why him?" someone inquired.

    "Yes. He should be able to explain," affirmed another.

    "Someone sent a boy to bring it to me, I don't know for what... could be the person was a Blue-eyed from the description the boy gave. He said someone tall, white, pointed-nosed, long-haired... they look exactly like that."

    "If you shake it, it produces sound. I thought maybe they are warning us," opined Odalo. Someone shook the bell. It clanged and then clinged, surprising everyone in the hut except Odalo. "Maybe they are warning us not to start up a new war with them," he claimed.

    "Sure. Maybe that, or something else," someone said. "Never seen such a thing before."

    "What should we do with it?" asked another.

    "I think we should go ask Nyasaye and juogi about it, shouldn't we, brothers?" posited Osayo.

    "Yes. Perhaps they have an answer. And we should also ask about the unique dressing they are forcing onto our people. The Blue-eyed are bringing a great confusion onto our people," noted Ochienge.

    "We will cast it all before the Long-lasting Tree," said Osayo. Silence ensued, all eyes cast onto the bell now resting on the floor.

    "And have you heard, brothers?" Odalo interposed.

    "What?" inquired Osayo.

    "That there's a new chief?"

    "What?" several elders asked in unison.

    "Yes. The Blue-eyed have returned with Odhiambo and given him the leadership mantle."

    "What? What are you talking about? Are... ca-can you... have... have they sent you with such lies to confound us too?" Osayo broke out, hemming and hawing as if a piece of meat he had been timing for so long now seemed to be dangling on a vulture's bill.

    "No. I'm telling you the truth. Go to Paw Akuche and see it for yourselves. How dare you think of me being a renegade?" replied Odalo, losing his temper a bit.

    "Then tell us how you knew this," Osayo surged on. 

    "No! Cut the cackle, brothers. This is not the time to cast blames onto one another," Ochienge intervened. "No, it's not. Don't you see? This, is exactly what the Blue-eyed want us to do, to be entangled in a fight with each other over their own undoing, hoping it pulls us apart. Oh no my brothers! It isn't time yet to give in to their craftiness. This, is the time to stick together and fight this battle to the end. To the end, brothers."

    "This is happening really so fast, brothers. We need to decide on what to do. Let's put our emotions aside and think," advised one.

    "What are we going to do? Fight back?" asked another.

    "Nooo, you blockhead. Didn't you just see the kind of weapons those tigers had? Hare always deployed his tricks in a match against Elephant, boy. Otherwise, the wild cats would be licking their tongues after a fine meal," the elder at the back explained, gesticulating. "Did you sell your head for protection in the rebellion?" Everybody laughed, including the elder he was referring to. He had a humorously deep voice and wore a funny face when he spoke.

    "Odongo, I admit your fun is the light of this heavy discussion," Ochienge pointed out after the laughter had died down, "but we also want constructive answers. Don't you think so, brothers? Yea, constructive answers. Now, could you please tell us what we need to do to salvage ourselves from this situation."

    "Well, at this point," replied Odongo, "there's nothing like salvaging ourselves. The only way to go about this is to keep silent. See, we have no superior weapons like they do. The only weapon at our disposal is silence. We need to keep quiet and learn, in case we want to avoid more bloodshed, brothers."

    "I object!" interjected one elder. "How is silence a weapon? Really, how are we going to keep quiet and watch our farms taken away, our women raped, youths turned into slaves and our beautiful culture torn apart? How is silence going to make things better?"

    "Such a question...," said Ochienge thoughtfully. "Go ahead and explain it to us, Odongo."

    "Well. Listen. Once upon a time, Bat and his family lived alone in a land abounding with all types of insects. There was much food on his table and peace prevailed throughout his territory. But then, one day, out of nowhere, Phoebe and her family visited the land and found out that there was more food for them to eat and fresher air to breath in that land than in their homeland. They were elated and decided to settle down and fill their days with joy. But Bat was not happy with Phoebe because, while he and his family could only walk, Phoebe and hers could fly and reach almost any zone at a speed much higher than theirs. Making good use of this, they scattered everywhere eating a lot of insects everyday. They even exported some to their homeland. And worse than everything, Phoebe's children became extremely cruel towards Bat's, beating them daily and even killing some. Bat was annoyed, but knew he couldn't wage an expedition against Phoebe because she could fly, which made her one more step ahead of him. So do you know what Bat did, my friends? He befriended Phoebe and asked her to teach him how to fly. Phoebe was delighted that Bat had a soft spot for her and had welcomed her presence on his territory. She taught Bat and his family how to fly, and after a year, they could at least fly with minor difficulties. And then after another year, Bat decided to rebel against Phoebe. He waged a tough war against her. And he fought pretty well since he now knew how to fly and was also fully aware of the terrain of his land. He fought severely against Phoebe and drove her away along with her family, thus regaining his autonomy."

    "Such a nice story in deed, but what has it got to do with our situation?" asked Ochienge when Odongo had finished.

    "We, fellow elders and members of this great clan, are Bat and his family while the Blue-eyed are Phoebe and her family, if only we behave in their likeness," replied Odongo.

    "So... are you suggesting that we join hands with the Blue-eyed?" asked Osayo.

    "Do we have another choice? It's for our own good," replied Odongo.

    "No. No. You're mad! Fellow elders, do you agree with him?" posed Osayo.

    "No. Yes. He's mad. He's been bought. Why not?" opinions came out divided. The elders went on murmuring.

    "Elders have shunned your opinion. What a savage idea! Who the hell do you think you are to believe we could possibly walk into such a snare? Yours is a fowler's snare."

    "Wait. I think I support him. What other option do we have, anyway?" said one elder.

    "Fools! I thought you learnt something better than that from your parents, you renegades. What? You're only too foolish to think we can accept to walk that direction." Osayo was beginning to lose his temper.

    "OK, brothers," said Odongo rising, "I accept to be a fool to myself. Good evening to you all." With that, he bowed respectfully and walked out. The elder who had claimed support for him also bowed and left.

    "Brothers, I bet there's nothing much to discuss at this point. I declare this meeting adjourned, but don't forget to turn up for prayers. We need answers to these questions from Nyasaye and juogi. Thank you all who turned up today," declared Osayo. 

    The elders dispersed talking to each other in low tones. Odalo remained in the hut. He thought it was perhaps the best time to have a secret word with the priest on what to do with the strange object from the Blue-eyed. 

    "Could we please have a small talk about it, this strange object?" he requested when everyone else had left.

    "After you tried to humiliate me in front of everyone by seeking for my explanation for whence it came?" said Osayo, maliciously staring at him.

    "Humiliate? OK. OK. I'm sorry... ."

    "Don't be sorry. I don't have time for this idle talk. Look at what they have done, leaving without anything proper for us to clutch onto. Get away from me you gadfly. I need to see my mother for some advice." With that, he walked out, leaving his guest stranded in his hut.