Chapter Eight

Whenever there were visitors from out of town, neighbours cluttered around, hoping for a sip of mbege that would have been prepared for the visitors.  But that day’s visitors were not at home for merry-making.  Clusters of nosy neighbours had already begun peering behind the plantain trees.  The family members were seated except for Ikunda who knelt before them.  Mama’s older brother, Mjomba Samuel, looked very perturbed.  Mama was expressionless.  Four other uncles were in a serious conversation while Japheth’s brothers and sisters looked like hungry lions that were ready to jump on their prey.

I had to help serve mbege.  I was not very happy that, as I had learnt that part of ‘being of woman’ is developing breasts.  As if            bleeding senselessly wasn’t enough!  My breasts were growing fast, flashing proudly like beacons.  I didn’t feel proud though or confident.  With my school uniforms they protruded through the            thin cotton fabric making me prone to the boys teasing.  I had to walk with a hunch and had begged Mama to borrow me one of her old dresses – that sat loosely on me as a stick in a sack.  Since it was so big and loose it slowed me down when serving the mbege as I constantly tripped over it.

            “What is this we hear about you leaving your husband?”  Mjomba Samuel was tapping his walking stick.  He only did that when he was agitated.

            “I learnt he has another woman, Mjomba.”

            “I thought you are the one with another man?”

            “No, Mjomba.  I don’t.”

            “You mean to tell me what your in-laws are saying is a lie?”

Ikunda kept quiet with her head bowed down.  Her beautiful long hair was covered with a headscarf.  I later learnt that she had done so to hide her bruised face.

            “Well, is it?”  Mjomba bellowed.

            “Ally isn’t my boyfriend, Mjomba.  He had just helped me with the bus fare.”

            “You are a married woman!  How dare you go ask another man for bus fare?”  Mjomba asked accusingly. “Why couldn’t you go to your in-laws if you had any problems?” 

            “He never lets me leave the house, Mjomba.”

            “I don’t believe you,” Mjomba stomped his walking stick angrily on the dusty ground, “you want to tell me you never go to the market?”

            “I do Mjomba, but he never allows me go far.”

            “I don’t believe you!  You are making these accusations up!  You are making us look like stupid children!  You are going to go back to your husband!”

            “I can’t Mjomba.”

            “You can’t?”

            “I don’t want to, Mjomba.”

            “Well, if you don’t want, then cough up their mahari back,” Mjomba got up then stopped at his track, “how comes you never had any problems with the first wife?  Why with this one?”

I couldn’t believe that Mjomba Samuel had actually said that in front of everybody.  He had actually let out the family secret!  Nobody knew about the first wife apart from us.  I didn’t want to look at Mama.  I knew she would be breathing fire.  I glanced at Makicha’s mother; who had moved from her hiding place for better hearing, she was smiling at this new learnt piece of precious information – her thirst for gossip now quenched.

            “I also heard the – the – the other woman is sick, Mjomba,” Ikunda whispered with her eyes on the ground.

            “So?  Do you run away when someone gets sick?

            “No, Mjomba.  Its just that –“

            “Its just that nothing!” bellowed Mjomba. “Infact you are going to go back, help your husband and take care of the family!  I don’t want to hear any nonsense!  Unless you can cough back the mahari, then you’ll be heard.  Otherwise you belong to them!”

            “Mjomba, I –“

            “We are terribly sorry for this embarrassment,” Mjomba Samuel then turned to the in-laws, ignoring Ikunda, “young women of today don’t have respect and don’ know their places at all!”

            “In own you can decide for yourself.  Nobody tells you anything.”  Dubya said as a matter of fact.  I was now standing behind the kitchen with Dubya, Aichi and Makicha listening silently.

            “And you won’t get beaten for talking back?”  Asked an amazed Aichi.

“By who?  I tell you girls are just wasting your lives here!  What has your mother achieved with her shamba or yours with selling a pub?  And you Aichi how much do you get from selling that lousy pathetic excuse for a fruit stand? 

“You guys are so slow and daft.  You need the city air to entice your sleeping brains I tell you.  So are you going to come with me or not?  You just stay behind and waste your lives.  I don’t care!”

Aichi, Makicha and Dubya then left after the people started dispersing.  Mama looked furious and deep in thought.  Mjomba Samuel looked furious.  Ikunda did not look happy at all.  When lunch was served she hardly ate but cried.  We all tried to console Ikunda but she was inconsolable.  I couldn’t understand why she got so upset about someone else being sick.  We always got sick – be it malaria or the flu – but I had never seen her this upset before. 

Later that evening, as the men sat at the baraza seeping mbege slowly and talking.  Mama, Mama Mdogo Philomena and Shangazi Lulu were in the lounge.  They would have gotten together in the kitchen over a fire, but it was raining that evening and the roof had a leak.  The walls were paper-thin so it was difficult not to eavesdrop.  I knew it was wrong, as Mama had forbidden me, but I couldn’t help it.

            “Its true , wifi,” announced Shangazi Lulu, there is another woman who is terribly sick.  Rumour is the first wife is also sick.”

            “What should she do now?” cried Mama Mdogo Philomena sadly, “we practically gave her away to be slaughtered.”

            “She will have to leave, wifi.”

            “She can’t leave!  This is her cross.  She has to carry it.  She swore before God for the good and the worse,” Mama who had been quiet all the time suddenly replied.

            “Wifi, do you realize that she could get infected?”

            Then it will be God’s will,” Mama replied seriously, “its unheard of to leave a husband!  And unchristian!  I won’t let no child of mine do that.”

            “No disrespect wifi, but we are trying to save our daughter here!”

I then heard Mama closing the door to her bedroom.  The men were also leaving outside.  Slowly I got up from the mattress and tiptoed to the door, pushing it gently making sure it doesn’t make that awful creaking noise.  Shangazi Lulu and Mama Mdogo Philomena’s faces looked sullen.  They were both sitting quietly staring at nothing in particular ahead.

            “What do we do now?” asked Mama Mdogo Philomena, her voice still tremulous.

            “Lets just sleep on it,” Shangazi Lulu replied almost in a whisper.

Quickly I rushed back to the mattress on the floor.  I didn’t know whether to get up and move to the lounge or try to sleep.  For the past few days Ikunda and I slept in the lounge, while Shangazi Lulu and Mama Mdogo Philomena slept in our room with Salekio and Shindo.  This evening we were asked to stay in the bedroom today to make room for Mama’s meeting.  Ikunda’s two children slept with Mama and Bibi Faustina.  For the past few days, we never gathered in the kitchen over the fire with Bibi listening to her stories.  I sighed as I shifted around restlessly; I hadn’t been able to sleep because of Ikunda’s sniveling.