X-FILES FROM THE VILLAGE - BY THE RIVERSIDE

Monday

There are many types of snakes known to inhabit our village, but the common ones are Nalunyaasi, Mamba Leo, and Mukoboyaka. Nalunyaasi is the green mamba; it is venomous and stealthy, so much so that, in most cases, you will not see it until you’ve already reached it. Mamba Leo, to us the young ones, is any big poisonous snake, while Mukoboyaka, which are rare, are pythons said to have the capacity to swallow whole animals or even people. They are rumored to be in Marekerero, those sides of Lwaboba in Muyekhe, as well as along the shores of River Manafwa.

But about the ability to swallow a person—my brain has never come to terms with it. Because the animal said to swallow people is Wanesilikhe, the one that swallowed Selah, according to Grandma’s story. So, what is the link between that monster and a snake?

But anyway, snakes are sacred. And much as the known venomous ones are supposed to be killed, there are patron snakes that are revered, respected, and indeed hold a high place in the village. There is no water source that exists without a snake watching over it. From Musweema to Wenyukha to Nakunuku, all these wells are protected by a known snake which, when we encounter, we must not kill but rather let it crawl away.

Tuesday

At the moment, there are rumors of an active python roaming around the river. We’ve been cautioned against walking alone, especially along the riverbank.

They say Chetulita, the wife of Wekwanya, was killed by a python. But that story has gaps and doesn’t really make sense. The only person who was there, Kaloli, says that by the time he reached the scene, the snake had already coiled itself around the woman and was trying to swallow her. Out of panic, he grabbed a log and hit the python. The snake let go, but by then, Chetulita was no longer breathing.

But there’s another story to her death that sounds more believable. It is told in whispers. It is said that Chetulita was not killed by any python. Instead, she was bitten by a snake as she eloped with Kaloli. They had made a “bed” besides the hole that harbors the black mamba at that time of the month when the snake is said to be sick and rarely comes out of the hole. How do we know that a snake inside the anthill is sick, you may ask? We tell this when the mushrooms called Bumekele start sprouting on or around the anthill where the snake resides.

Wednesday

Bumekele are tiny mushrooms that only grow on an anthill (ishiili or shishili) that harbors a big snake which patronizes it, just like we know that snakes patronize wells and other natural water sources around the village. The moment that patron snake is killed, the water source will dry up, or the mushrooms will stop growing on that anthill.

When the mushrooms sprout upon the hill, it is a sign that the snake is sick. Therefore, the women and girls can harvest the mushrooms without threat of being bitten by the snake.

On that particular day, Chetulita could have thought the snake was sick and there she lay with her lover, Kaloli. It is said that when the snake bit her, she did not take it seriously. Some people even joke that the ecstasy of the moment was too much that by the time they realized it was a snake bite, the poison had already reached her heart and she could not be saved. How this version came up, they say Kaloli told it to his wife.

“Women can never keep a secret,” they add. But Chetulita died!

Thursday

Related to that, so many scary animals are said to live around Manafwa River. One time, Namaumba claimed to have been chased by Imbulu, a feared alligator that has a sharp tail which, we are told, it uses to chop off the legs of its prey. Nonetheless, these stories never stop us from going to the river.

Friday

Life is lived to its fullness. We grieve and celebrate together. Not that we never fight and more than a few times, suspicion arises but to the boys of our age, it is all about living. On a day like today, we wake and join the rest for communal work. After the work, we lead the cattle to the riverside for grazing; here we are always on our own. We spend the day fighting, cheering the fighting cows, and for lunch, yes, we steal people’s sugarcane and then wait for evening time to lay the girls. It is by the river that the boys start transiting into men.

Saturday

Today the older boys were helping one of their own who is going to be circumcised next year. When we asked why they were placing the termite on his boyhood, they said it is an initiation called khukhala kharandasi. I watched as the termite’s mandibles gripped a lining of skin below the sheath on his penis. He almost showed cowardice by biting his lower lip, but Watenga hit the calf of his leg while proclaiming, “kamani mwibili!”

Sunday

Daytime by the river is for the boys and maybe some adult women. The girls come in the evening to draw water and bathe and yes, to be laid. Most of the thriving marriages started from the river. The girl who went to fetch water never returned, she did not even return the jerrycan
. From the river, she just proceeded to Namwalye, and it was the boy’s uncles who came to report that they have our sister.

Till then, we shall keep you posted!

X-FILES FROM THE VILLAGE- TAKES A VILLAGE TO RAISE A CHILD

Monday

"You see this madness of acrobatics where one puts their legs on the bicycle handlebars, lift hands in the air as they slope down Nakunuku? It is what killed his brother, Wayeno," Walumbe chided as Nekemiah rode past the elderly but strongly built village defense chief. Having lived all his life along the road, he has seen countless bicycle accidents happen on this road, and most of them are caused by reckless riding by the young men. His wife knew that Walumbe is always concerned about the welfare of the young men in the area and beyond. But she teasingly shot back, "You're just jealousy of the boy because you cannot do what he is doing. Let them enjoy their age."

Tuesday

"Woman, you never saw me in my teenage. Only that in our years the bicycle was a rarity, only to be found in the homes of the chiefs and the headmasters. Therefore, we learnt to ride by stealthily accessing Chief Wananda's bicycle through his son. We would ride in turns, with each round costing you a piece (inyengo) of sugarcane. But because Wananda's son had an eye for my sister Wanyenya, I was always able to drive an extra mile due to my closeness to the crown prince of the village."

Wednesday

"But before bicycles were given to the chiefs, there was only one bicycle we could see in this area, and it was ridden by Semei Kakungulu. By then, I was still a young boy. Most people referred to it as a two-legged metallic horse. And being what he was, Semei was not ready to tell us the truth. So, every time he could visit the sub-county, we were asked to carry milk to be given to the horse. Apparently, Semei's horse used to drink milk and did not eat grass like other donkeys and horses. Therefore, he would come with a big imuuka (gourd), and everyone who went to view the horse would take with them milk as a gift. Little did we know that Semei was the horse that drank the milk, and this was just a bicycle."

Thursday

Walumbe continued:

"So, around that time when we had come of age, more bicycles were brought into the area. But, if a big person gave you the honor of pushing their bicycle, you were not allowed to ride it. One time, the headmaster of Musese gave me a bicycle to take to his house. When I went around the corner, I got tempted and started by pedaling one side before garnering the courage to lift my leg over the frame. But because I was short, I could not reach the seat. I therefore rode on the frame—kumutti. When I was approaching his house, I got off and pushed it to the house. One thing I forgot was that I had not cleaned my behind well. My contact with the frame left some stains and a small stench that gave me away. For riding the headmaster's bicycle, I got some good beating at home."

Friday

As Walumbe was still telling the tale of his experience with bicycles, Nekemiah came back pushing the bicycle with a limp. His face had bruises, and you could tell that he had just had a fall from his bicycle. Walumbe walked slowly to Nekemiah in a perceived show of empathy, saying, "Itsila ikhaboola, shiina ndi?" meaning the path does not tell what lies ahead of you. Nekemiah intimated how the bicycle hit a rock, and he came tumbling down. Slowly, Walumbe walked toward him, relieved Nekemiah of the bicycle, and asked him to follow Walumbe to his house. He calmly rested the bicycle on the mango tree, went behind his house as if to get water for the injured boy. He instead returned holding a stick behind his back, got hold of Nekemiah, and gave him 5 strokes to the buttocks.

Saturday

It takes a village to raise a child—and especially a boy, they say.

After caning him, Walumbe confiscated the bicycle and asked Nekemiah to go and call his father to pick it. That is Walumbe. The boy went home knowing that this ordeal is going to earn him more canes. What could he do?

That is when the village buddies come in.

Sunday

The bicycle was rescued. The parents were not i
nformed until Sunday when Walumbe found them at church.

X-FILES FROM THE VILLAGE - THE DAY AT SCHOOL

Monday

(ŋ)Ngooli, walya maito (ŋ)Ngooli, wawa wawa

(ŋ)Ngooli, walya maito (ŋ)Ngooli, wawa wawa

Munialo and Buteki clasp their hands behind their backs. Woniala lurches forward, climbs up, and the clasped palms of Munialo and Buteki form a platform on which he stands. He begins lunging forward, swaying up and down to imitate a crested crane (ŋooli). The boys are grouped into threes, forming the same combination: two boys support one. As the procession moves around, the girls sing:

(ŋ)Ngooli, walya maito (ŋ)Ngooli, wawa wawa

(ŋ)Ngooli, walya maito (ŋ)Ngooli, wawa wawa

It is an illustration of a Crested Crane that has been arrested for stealing people's groundnuts but the lesson that follows is that when you steal, you will always be caught and the Crane on the back is a symbol of vulnerability when the law catches up with you. Just like it did with Wamimbi Uwa Wapondo.

Tuesday

The first trio to lose is Wangamati’s group, followed by others who can no longer sustain the weight of the ŋooli (Crested Crane). They switch to another game until break time.

Break time it is, and we all race to our favorite engagement. The older boys usually carry a ball woven from polythene and rubber, while we, the younger ones, head to the selling point for bolingo and kabalagala.

Wednesday

We don’t need money to hang around the selling point—just a buddy with whom you’ve made a pact, or you hang around hoping for a sympathizer to offer a bite of sumbusa, bolingo, or kabalagala. Sometimes, just say pandye, and you’re entitled to your friend’s share of the snack. But today, Wolayo is wise; he has folded his shirt sleeve. The only way I can get a share of bolingo is by promising to share mine tomorrow. He’s not swayed. So I walk to where they’re selling sugarcane and decide to eat the tip, which is usually cut off—it’s called ruburi.

Before I can finish my ruburi, the timekeeper bangs the gong. We call it a bell, but it’s not a real bell—it’s a piece of metal which, when struck hard enough with another metal, alerts the children. On a normal day, the gong is sounded six times, but on special occasions, it also summons us for events.

Thursday

The gong that summons us is usually sounded a few minutes before classes resume. We all run to class as the prefects take their positions to catch latecomers. I miss Wandyetye’s cane by a whisker and make it to class.

After ten minutes of waiting for the teacher, who doesn’t show up, the boys organize a duel. Watiila invites Ekisofeli to a fight, and as always, Katami is the referee. The rule is simple, and it is one: no one should hit the other in the stomach. That’s the only rule. Fighting in class, where we keep quiet and watch while some keep checking to see if the teacher is coming, is a common thing here.

Friday

Wakooli is asked to keep watch and alert us when the teacher is coming. Quietly, the fight begins. Ekisofeli wrestles Watiila to the ground, then starts raining fists on his opponent. We’re all enjoying the fight in silence, and some of us are standing on the only three desks in the class to watch. Wakooli enjoys the fight and loses guard. He is just as surprised as the rest of us when the Headmaster walks in and goes straight to the fighting boys.

Saturday

Around here, fighting among children is normal—an acceptable way to earn respect among peers. Parents and teachers seem to approve of it implicitly, though never in words. When Mr. Buteki found us fighting last week, he encouraged us to continue, and only the loser was punished.

Sunday

The Headmaster had come to inform us that Wamimbi son of Wapondo, who is Watiila's father, had died after stealing Wakauna's cows—and the traditional doctor had sent a spell to catch the thief! It was unfortunate that after casting the spell, the doctor was called to a distant place and couldn’t be reached on time for the antidote to save Wamimbi Uwa Wapondo.

Justice in this part of the world is intricate. Tell me—will you blame Wakauna for Wamimbi’s death? Maybe yes. But will you hold him accountable? He was only trying to find out who stole his cows.

And as we speak, Wakauna's herd is being led back to the village. The cows had been taken to Bumia and we are told that even there, some people are reeling from the great traditional healer's medicine and if it was not for the great medicine men from Bunyole, they would be dead.

Till then, we shall keep you posted!

X-FILES FROM THE VILLAGE - DARK JUSTICE

Monday 

The sound of alarm early this morning draws the entire village to Wakauna’s homestead. Everyone gathers around his kraal— known to house dozens of cows. But now, it stands nearly empty. I can see only a few: a mulukumu, inyenda, and the dreaded white cow.

Tuesday 

In our village, there are three types of cows we disregard. They hold little resale value. They cannot be slaughtered for ceremonies, offered as dowry, or given as gifts.

“Mulukumu” is a hornless cow, feared for being possessed—the only known carnivorous cow. Some people say it is the one that devoured Wamono’s twin brother. Others insist that Wamono was born with leopard that roams the area, said to live in the shrub near the school. I’ve never seen it, but Munialo swears to having encountered it several times.

A white cow is another we don’t keep for value. It’s only used for rituals to cleanse a person or the village. But no one wants to keep it because when a white cow dies in the kraal, it’s a bad omen—often followed by a death in the homestead. We can’t forget what happened when Walyaula’s white cow died: Walyaula himself passed away, and his family fell apart. Some of his children never returned for circumcision even.

“Inyenda” is a cow with a stained coat, as if paint had been spilled across its skin. It’s unlike Friesian - Musubulaya, which bears neat black-and-white patches. Inyenda is also used for rituals and rarely do people buy it except for special purposes like treating infertility.

Wednesday

Therefore, Wakauna was robbed in the night, his kraal swept clean. To help catch the thieves, Munialo was tasked with guarding the kraal to make sure that no one enters it or picks anything before “investigations” are conducted. Meanwhile, Wakauna has gone to Busukuya to find a traditional healer - umufumu.

Thursday 

When the traditional healer arrives, he was a skinny man, not one who inspires the fear or aura that engulfs one when you stand under the big healing Murukuru tree. Immediately he asks for a hen, which he slaughters at the kraal’s entrance, mumbles a few words, enters the kraal, pulls some grass, bites into it, and walks out.

Friday 

“You will find the thief before the day ends,” he says —and walks away. Such persons in our area do not ask for pay; it is the served who is compelled to take a befitting gift to thank the gods’ messenger for the work done. If the cows are recovered, we are sure that he will be rewarded with a cow or two. But if the thief is caught and the cows not recovered, he will be appreciated with a goat. 

Saturday

Before sunset, Wamimbi uwa Wapondo comes tumbling toward the kraal. Without talking to anyone, he drops to the ground and begins mowing grass—just like a cow.

The thief has been revealed.

Sunday

Justice has to be served. The healer has to be called back to release Wamimbi uwa Wapondo from the spell. Munialo is sent to fetch him. But by twilight, neither Munialo nor the healer have shown up. Wamimbi’s condition is worsening. If they don’t act soon, he might die.

Yet no one dares to approach him.

Till then, we shall keep you posted