The River Between (4 page)

Soon Waiyaki joined again in the daily rhythm of life in the village. He went out to look after cattle; organized raids, went out hunting. He joined in the dances for the young boys and felt happy. Days came and went; and still it was the same life. His eyes retained a strong and resolute look. Some people said that there was something evil in their glitter. But his father must have had the same sort of eyes; in a body becoming distorted with wrinkles, his eyes remained alive and youthful.

One evening, a few weeks after his second birth, Waiyaki was called by his father, who liked holding talks in his
thingira,
the man's hut. Waiyaki entered very quietly, because he was always uneasy in the presence of his father.

Chege was sitting in his usual place by the pole. Goats and sheep slept together around him and a low snore came from them.

“Sit down,” Chege said, and indicated a small, four-legged stool standing legs upward near a fat sheep which slept very close to the fireplace. Waiyaki poked the sheep in the ribs with the left leg so that he might get a place to sit. The sheep would not move and Waiyaki was forced to sit next to it. “Where do you take the cattle tomorrow?”

“The Valley in Nyama!”

“Have you been to the hills deep south of Kameno?” Chege spoke slowly. Except for a slight tremor in the voice, it was young and calm.

“No!” Waiyaki answered after a slight pause. He was trying to recall the place. He wondered why his father was asking him all this.

“Have you ever heard of the sacred grove?”

“Yes, we hear about it.”

There was another silence. Waiyaki grew restless with curiosity.

“Leave the cattle and goats with your mother, for tomorrow we shall go to the hills.”

Outside it was dark. A few stars lay scattered across the sky. Waiyaki was excited. He felt ready to start on the journey there and then. What were they going to do together, what were they going to see? It was a secret, a man's secret. What other hidden things did his father hold in his aging body? He wished Chege had told him more, but he would know all, everything, tomorrow. It would be a great day. The journey was important. As he ran into his mother's hut and sat down, he felt important and very big.

 • • • 

Chege and Waiyaki trudged on. The path they followed was unknown to Waiyaki as he had never gone that far along Honia river. But he was content to follow his father, who led the way through the labyrinth of bush thorns and creeping plants. Waiyaki was often caught in the network of plants and thorns, sometimes extricating himself with difficulty.

Nothing stirred. Only the throb and fall of the river accompanied the occasional plash and slither of their footfalls. Sometimes Chege would stop and seem to listen. Waiyaki stopped too but would hear nothing. Chege would then pour a shower of saliva on to his breast in the Gikuyu way of blessing. Waiyaki thought his father was blessing the river.

Few words passed between them. But when Chege stopped near a certain tree or bush, Waiyaki knew that his father had something to explain.

“The bark of that tree is good for a fresh wound.”

“The roots of this plant are good. When your stomach bites you, you boil them in water. Drink the liquid.”

And sometimes it would be a warning against that tree, “whose fruit is full of poison.”

Waiyaki felt close to his father as he had never felt before. He felt a glow rising inside him. Was he not drinking from a calabash of trust and responsibility?
Tiitheru,
of a truth, he was maturing. The hidden things of the hills were being revealed to him.

They left the valley and began to climb up the slopes, past a rock here or a tree there. Waiyaki was surprised at his father, who seemed to keep the same pace, while he himself was already panting. Once they disturbed an antelope from its hiding place. It leapt—leapt—leapt away. Waiyaki liked antelopes. He always felt a desire to touch their smooth bodies.

“They see men and run away.”

“Why? Don't they run away from women?” Waiyaki asked, puzzled. The forest was quiet. One could still catch the fading throb of the river.

“You don't know this! Long ago women used to rule this land and its men. They were harsh and men began to resent their hard hand. So when all the women were pregnant, men came together and overthrew them. Before this, women owned everything. The animal you saw was their goat. But because the women could not manage them, the goats ran away. They knew women to be weak. So why should they fear them?”

It was then Waiyaki understood why his mother owned nothing.

They came to the top. There, they found a beaten path which appeared to have been out of use for a long time. They took it. Ahead of them was a small hill standing all by itself. On top was the sacred place. Waiyaki's heart gave a jump. He felt afraid and excited at the same time.

A big Mugumo tree stood near the edge of the hill. It was a huge tree, thick and mysterious. Bush grew and bowed reverently around it. And there the ancient tree stood, towering over the hill, watching, as it were, the whole country. It looked holy and awesome, dominating Waiyaki's soul so that he felt very small and in the presence of a mighty power. This was a sacred tree. It was the tree of Murungu. Waiyaki, now on top of the hill, on the other side of the tree, surveyed the land. And he felt as if his heart would stop beating so overcome was he by the immensity of the land. The ridges were all flat below his small feet. To the east, the sun had already risen. It could now be seen clearly, a huge red ball of smoldering colors. Strands of yellowish-red thinned outwards from the glowing center, diffusing into the thick gray that joined the land to the clouds. Far beyond, its tip hanging in the gray clouds, was Kerinyaga. Its snow-capped top glimmered slightly, revealing the seat of Murungu.

The ridges slept on. Kameno and Makuyu were no longer antagonistic. They had merged into one area of beautiful land, which is what, perhaps, they were meant to be. Makuyu, Kameno and the other ridges lay in peace and there was no sign of life, as one stood on the hill of God.

Even Chege was moved by the morning peace. It was sometime before he was able to speak.

“Do you see all this land, this country stretching beyond and joining the sky?” His voice was deep and calm. Waiyaki realized that it was charged with strong feelings. He whispered:

“Yes.”

“It is beautiful to the eye—”

“It is beautiful.”

“And young and fertile—”

“Yes. Young and fertile.”

“All this is our land.”

“Yes, Father.”

“You know Gikuyu and Mumbi—”

“Father and mother of the tribe.”

It was as if both were in a big dream.

“Do you see that mountain showing through the gray mist on the horizon—”

“Kerinyaga?”

“Yes, the mountain of He-who-shines-in-Holiness.” Chege stopped but continued with his steadfast look. “That is the seat of Murungu. He made Gikuyu and Mumbi.”

“Ye-es,” Waiyaki whispered.

“He stood them on that mountain. He showed them all the land.”

“Ye-es.” Again it was a whisper, barely audible. His father's voice had a magic spell.

“From that mountain he brought them here.” Chege was standing beside his son, but a few steps behind. He looked across the ridges, across the hills, gazing still into space, like a man in a vision. Perhaps he was looking at something hidden from Waiyaki. Waiyaki strained his eyes but could not see anything. Although he feared for his father, he was becoming overpowered by the words flowing from the old man. And his father spoke on, not really talking to Waiyaki, but rather talking to himself, speaking his feelings and thoughts aloud. As his voice vibrated, Chege seemed to gain in stature and appearance so that Waiyaki thought him transfigured.

“. . . it was before Agu; in the beginning of things. Murungu brought the man and woman here and again showed them the whole vastness of the land. He gave the country to them and their children and the children of the children,
tene na tene,
world without end. Do you see here?”

Waiyaki was not sure if the last question was addressed to him. However, he looked up and saw his father was pointing at the Mugumo tree and the mysterious bush around it.

“That is a blessed and sacred place. There, where Mumbi's feet stood, grew up that tree. So you see, it is Kameno that supported the father and mother of the tribe. From here, Murungu took them and put them under Mukuruwe wa Gathanga in Muranga. There our father and mother had nine daughters who bore more children. The children spread all over the country. Some came to the ridges to keep and guard the ancient rites. . . .”

The old man shifted his gaze and looked at his son.

“You are here. . . .”

“I came with you, Father.” Waiyaki was puzzled. He was beginning to shake himself out of the powers of the spell.

“I know, I know,” he said impatiently. “You understand that Gikuyu and Mumbi set their footsteps here.”

“Yes.”

“You descend from those few who came to the hills.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Waiyaki did not understand.

“You have heard of Mugo wa Kibiro?”

“Yes.”

“He was a seer . . . he saw things . . . the future unfolded before his eyes. . . .

“Mugo was born and grew up in Kameno before he went to tell people what he saw. For he saw many butterflies, of many colors, flying about over the land, disrupting the peace and the ordered life of the country. Then he cried aloud and said: ‘There shall come a people with clothes like butterflies. . . .' People did not believe him. Some even poured scorn on him, laughing at him, for they said: ‘He is not well.' And they would not listen to his voice, which warned them: ‘Beware!' The seer was rejected by the people of the ridges. They gave him no clothes and no food. He became bitter and hid himself, refusing to tell them more. He went beyond the hills, to the world yonder, the whole extent of Gikuyuland. He was not yet exhausted and there spoke the message even louder. Still they laughed and poured scorn on him. Here they thought him dead. But disguised he came back here and settled.”

Chege paused for a while as if to gather his breath. His eyes shone as if with inner power and then slowly he said:

“We are his offspring. His blood flows in your veins.”

Waiyaki stood as if dumb. The knowledge that he had in him the blood of this famous seer, who had been able to see the future, filled him with an acute sense of wonder. He could not speak; the only word which escaped him was “Ha!” His father was still speaking:

“He died here. Our fathers do not know where his grave is. But some say that he was carried up by Murungu.”

Chege stopped and slowly turned to Waiyaki. Waiyaki trembled freely.

“I see you fear. You must learn to fight fear . . . fear. . . . It was not only Mugo whom they rejected. When I told them about Siriana they would not listen.”

For the first time, Waiyaki felt really frightened. Unknown terror gripped him. He fought with it.

“No doubt you wonder why I tell you all this—”

Waiyaki wanted to cry out: “Don't tell me more. I don't want to hear more. No! No! No, Father!” Instead he only whispered.

“Ye-es!”

“You are the last in our line.”

Waiyaki felt as if a heavy cloud was pressing down his soul and he felt a strange sensation of suspension in his stomach. It was as if something, a presentiment, was moving toward him with all speed and he was powerless to prevent it.

“Sit down,” his father spoke gently.

Waiyaki's legs had already begun to lose strength and he sank on to the grass.

“You are tired perhaps,” Chege said as he moved near his son.

Waiyaki stopped trembling and hated himself for showing fear.

Chege repeated slowly:

“You see, when Mugo became bitter, he refused to tell them more.” Chege made another pause. His face and eyes were set as if he was trying to recall something long-forgotten. . . . He was now standing just behind Waiyaki. He bent down and touched his son on the shoulder. Waiyaki realized that his father's hand was trembling slightly. Chege withdrew his hand quickly and then with a loud tremor in his voice went on:

“Now, listen my son. Listen carefully, for this is the ancient prophecy. . . . I could not do more. When the white man came and fixed himself in Siriana, I warned all the people. But they laughed at me. Maybe I was hasty. Perhaps I was not the one. Mugo often said you could not cut the butterflies with a panga. You could not spear them until you learned and knew their ways and movement. Then you could trap, you could fight back. Before he died, he whispered to his son the prophecy, the ancient prophecy: ‘Salvation shall come from the hills. From the blood that flows in me, I say from the same tree, a son shall rise. And his duty shall be to lead and save the people!' He said no more. Few knew the prophecy. Perhaps Kabonyi, who has betrayed the tribe, knows about it. I am old, my time is gone. Remember that you are the last in this line.

“Arise. Heed the prophecy. Go to the Mission place. Learn all the wisdom and all the secrets of the white man. But do not follow his vices. Be true to your people and the ancient rites.”

“Father—” Waiyaki called out when he had recovered from the shock. He felt weak and small. He did not know what he wanted to say.

“You go there. I tell you again, learn all the wisdom of the white man. And keep on remembering, salvation shall come from the hills. A man must rise and save the people in their hour of need. He shall show them the way; he shall lead them.”

“But—but—they don't know me. I am a child and they rejected Mugo. . . .”

“Let them do what they like. A time will come—I can see it coming—when they shall cry for a savior. . . .”

 • • • 

It was late in the day when Chege and Waiyaki descended the hills. They reached home both feeling exhausted. To Waiyaki the whole experience seemed a dream. What had he, a mere boy, to do with a savior? Was he to go about in the ridges crying, “Listen! A leader shall come from the hills to save you”?

And then for a time he began to doubt the sanity of his father. Perhaps the whole thing had been an old man's dream. He almost laughed at the serious manner in which his father had taken it all. But there was no mirth in his heart. Instead he felt a heaviness making him a man. In body, he was still a boy.

 • • • 

When the time came, Waiyaki vanished from the hills without the knowledge of any but his father. He went to Siriana, where, one term later, and almost by a miracle, he was joined by Kamau and Kinuthia, his fellow herdboys.

The three were destined to live and learn together under the Reverend Livingstone of Siriana Mission, which had now grown into a big institution. Many boys from the hills and beyond, from Kiambu and Muranga, came there for a portion of the white man's magic.

For many seasons they learned and worked hard. Waiyaki made quick progress and impressed the white missionaries, who saw in him a possible brave Christian leader of the Church. But who knew that things were changing faster than the vision of Livingstone, than the boy's expectation and imaginings?