(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!
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