Other Worlds Were Possible, page 13
“No! A thousand times ‘No’! Blessed children of Christ: We don’t wish to kill you. We wish to save you. We wish to lift you out of the darkness, and bring you into the light; to raise you up from your childish ignorance, and deliver you into salvation.
“This is the white man’s burden. We come in God’s name, to save your souls from damnation, so that you might enter paradise, which we call ‘Heaven’, and exist in eternal bliss.
“In the Lord’s name, let it be said: Once you come to realise the errors of your ways, you’ll understand the good we’ve done, saving you from yourselves.”
Sunny could not help but notice the change in Father Ralph’s speech. It had found a rhythm. The missionary still paused between sentences, to savour the taste of his self-righteousness. But he no longer stumbled between words. Perhaps he had rehearsed this lecture to the point of perfection. Or perhaps had mastered their language.
Sunny was impressed. But Bear was unmoved. Sunny could tell as much from the way she puckered her lips, revealing the pinkish skin inside her mouth, and by the way her eyes meandered towards the stars.
But Bear shielded her disapproval from Father Ralph; maintaining a gracious smile, whilst speaking in a kindly voice:
“Our esteemed brother: We’re already in paradise. Look around you! We’re surrounded by the people we love. We have a wonderful community, all the food we can eat, and all the time in the world. We have art, walks, conversation, stories, sport, music and sex. Why would we need your… What did you say it was called?... Okay, yes: Your ‘Heaven’?”
A short silence ensued. Father Ralph must have understood the tribe’s custom.
Bear gestured for him to respond.
“It’s not ‘Our’ heaven. It’s everyone’s heaven. And you need it, because your so-called ‘Ancestral forests’ don’t actually exist. God will punish you for this heresy. As it is written: The cowardly, faithless and detestable; the murderers, perverts, sorcerers, idolaters and liars; they shall be taken to a lake that burns with fire and sulphur, where they shall endure a second death, and be tortured day and night.
“But there is hope! For God is good and God is love. Let Jesus into your heart, follow the righteous path, and you shall be saved. You shall enter heaven; a place where the gates are made of pearl, the streets are lined with gold, and everything is illuminated by the divine light of the Lord. Hallelujah, praise the Lord!”
Upon hearing these revelations, a hand shot up so quickly, it propelled the body to which it was attached; lifting that person to her feet.
This woman, named Protectress, was different from her peers. Whilst they took great pleasure from eating meat, she only ate fruit, leaves, tubers, excrement and ash. Whilst her peers loved to engage in idle conversation, Protectress liked to disappear into the wilderness, to commune with nature alone. She had a habit of falling into epileptic trances, speaking in tongues for several days. She wore her hair long, or short, or replaced it with feathers. Sometimes she made herself look like a man. Sometimes she walked around naked. She had been known to fast for days, balance on her head for entire nights, and perch upon a branch like a bird.
Protectress’s behaviour was unique. Very few people claimed to understand her. But she was one of their own. Her clans-folk loved her, and were happy to accept her quirks. There was a general belief that she was mentally ill, but that her illness had come about because she had been touched by Mother Nature. She was even revered. In times of trouble, the members of her clan turned to Protectress for guidance; asking her to call the rains, or lead them to fertile land. Things were a little different in the Big Camp. The security forces had beaten her, when she was younger. But even they now accepted her ways.
Having leapt to her feet, Protectress was standing as tall as her crooked back would permit. The people behind her were staring at the peg which had been clamped to her anus. Her malformed arms were flailing about, and her eyes were gazing in different directions.
She had won the group’s attention:
“I’m familiar with this ‘Heaven’ of which you speak. I’ve frequented that place on no fewer than one separate occasion. And yes, I’ll admit, it seems like a fine old camp. There are, as you say, a few sets of pearly gates. The pathways are so spangly, they could blind an arthritic goat.
“Skip-bop, da doo-bop. Screech! Doo-wop, di doo-bop.
“But glimpse beneath the surface! Glimpse, glimpse, glimpse. Ooh jiggedy! You’ll be aghast at what you’ll find. This heaven is a cold, heartless void! There are no discussions, debates or votes. Skiddly nope! The people in this ‘Heaven’ are slaves to a tyrant they call ‘God’.
“Skiddly-doo, bee-bop, shoo-wop.
“I couldn’t cope in that ghastly place, and neither could you. It’s a wiggly-woggly-Woggy place. It’s not for freedom-lovers like us.”
Father Ralph’s brow crumpled into furrows of red and pink. He had played out this scene in his mind, on twenty or thirty occasions. He had imagined a plethora of different reactions, and worked out a way to respond to each. But he had not anticipated a response like this.
He fired off his reply without pausing for the customary period:
“Blasphemy!... Holy Moly!... Goodness gracious... What a… What a dang notion!... You cannot possibly… You cannot possibly have been to heaven! Heaven is… Heaven is for the dead.”
Protectress did wait in silence, before agreeing with Father Ralph:
“Yes. Heaven is for the dead. I was dead when I visited. Dead, dead, dead.”
“You’re not… You’re not dead.”
Pause.
“I came back to life.”
“Preposterous!... People… We… Cannot… Die... We cannot die and come back to life.”
Pause.
“Can’t we?”
Father Ralph thought better than to reply. He was still keen to introduce Jesus; a man who had risen from the dead. And he sensed that no good would come from arguing with a woman who was quite clearly insane.
He turned to Bear.
The chairperson had recovered her calm. Even from a distance, Sunny could tell that her face had softened. Her eyeballs had expanded. Her cheeks were soft and airy:
“Let’s say, for argument's sake, that you’re correct. This heaven is a fine place. We should all wish to enter… What would you have us do to gain admittance?”
Bear’s welcoming tone had the desired effect; encouraging Father Ralph to relax.
The missionary closed his eyes, crossed himself, and rediscovered his rhythm:
“We ask that you invite Jesus into your hearts. Love the one true God, creator and master of the universe. Follow his commandments. Don’t worship false idols; these ‘Ancestors’ and this so-called ‘Mother Nature’. Don’t engage in sin. Choose a partner, and commit to her for life. Cover your shameful bodies. Rest on the Sabbath. Love your neighbours. Love your enemies. Praise the Lord.”
Pause.
“And if we don’t do as you say?”
Pause.
“If you accept my olive branch, God will save your soul. You’ll find bliss in the Kingdom of Heaven. And I’ll do everything I can to ensure you’re protected on earth. No sword shall be swung in anger, and no shot shall be fired in vain. Our conquering army is good and pure. They wouldn’t kill a fellow Christian.
“But if you’re stubborn, if you resist, then I’m afraid you’ll be on your own. I’ll pray for your souls. But the righteous may slay you. Your souls might burn in eternal hellfire.”
Pause.
“Bribes and threats?”
Father Ralph did not respond. But it was clear what Bear was saying: This outsider was no different from Hunter, who had also tried to entice them, before giving up and resorting to threats. Sunny had disliked Father Ralph from the get-go. He disliked him even more now. This man was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He might have spoken of love. But he wanted them to abandon the very things they loved the most.
“A promise of protection.”
Bear responded with her right hand; holding her fingers flat, and clapping them against her thumb, to make them look like a chattering mouth.
She opened her palm, held it aside her ear, and flicked it away; the gesture the tribes-folk performed, whenever they heard a lie.
And she left it to Serenity to respond:
“I spoke before of an imminent threat. The Wogies are here. They do have the power to kill us all… Now, I don’t claim to like this man. But if he can save our lives… If he can act as a mediator, and prevent a war… Then, sistren and brethren, we should open our ears to his mouth.”
Pause.
“Esteemed brother: Do you trust this man?”
Pause.
“Certainly not.”
Pause.
“So this might be a trap?”
Serenity nodded.
“And you think we should walk straight in?”
Pause.
“Sistren and brethren: I think it’s our least bad option.”
Bear thumbed her flabby chin, turned her torso but not her hips, and gestured towards the other representatives.
“Is there anyone here who wishes to commit to a single lover for the whole of their mortal life? Even if it makes them unhappy?... For the good of the tribe, we should be able to reject unhappiness. Yet if we were to bow to this man’s commands, such a thing could never happen. We’d be locked into miserable relationships. We’d grow exasperated. We’d start arguments, fights and wars. We’d destroy ourselves from within.
“Esteemed sisters: This ‘One partner for life’ malarkey is quite clearly a TRAP!”
Sunny noticed that almost everyone was nodding. The auditorium glistened as their heads bobbed up and down, reflecting the firelight in a thousand different directions.
It was left to another representative to have the final say:
“We spoke in private… Yes, I see you remember… You told me that this ‘God’ character, this ‘One True God’, came down to earth; revealing herself to one set of people, at one specific time.
“Please explain to our gathered tribe: Why on earth and the ancestral realm would she behave in such a fashion?
“If this spirit mother could reveal herself, why didn’t she do so in full view of everyone; descending in triumph, with pomp and majesty? Why didn’t she visit every tribe? Why didn’t she visit us? And why did she visit your people, of all the people in nature? What makes you so very special?
“Brother stranger: Each tribe has its own beliefs. Yet you, in your arrogance, claim that only yours are righteous. That we must obey your rules, or be damned forever.
“What vanity! Your ego is the size of the moon!”
OF LOVE AND LOINCLOTHS
The camp had expanded a little, and then it had fixed itself in place. What had once felt wondrous, now possessed the odourless air of the mundane.
Parallel to the cliffs, a wide avenue divided several clusters of teepees, tupiks and marquees. Pathways had formed between these temporary homes; battered into position by a thousand forgotten footsteps, misshapen by the rains, and reinvented with each passing storm.
At one end of that avenue, the Sacred Circle was fully decorated. Its posts were covered in images of hunters, beasts, fishes, plants and spirits. The surrounding slopes were brown with earth. The grass had been flattened, the ground was pockmarked with footprints, and the fire pit was white with ash.
Alongside the avenue, opposite the cliffs, a field was being used to host the Tribal Games. These were taking place every day, now the city was fully built, and the tribe had ample reserves of food. The most popular game was called chunkey. Players took turns to launch logs at a rolling sphere, whilst running as fast as they could; attempting to land their poles within a whisker of that moving target, without making any contact. Tribes-folk also played a ball game, and a version of lacrosse. They wrestled, boxed, held spear-throwing contests and archery competitions. Large crowds gathered to watch these spectacles. They gambled thousands of beads, and smoked copious amounts of tobacco.
Beyond this arena, beneath the caves which were being used to store meat, was the tribe’s communal store. This was by far the biggest structure in the camp. It loomed high above the other tents, casting a shadow which engulfed the avenue.
That tent was filled with an abundance of different things…
The buff antelope from the first hunt had all been eaten. But their remains had been repurposed and placed in this store. The largest antlers had been turned into pickaxes and mattocks. The remainder had been converted into headdresses, which would be used during spiritual ceremonies. The teeth had been made into beads.
The tribes-folk had not only hunted antelope. They had killed hundreds of gazelles, a good number of wild boars, and a few of the frailer buffalo. They avoided the stronger buffalo, because the risks were too great. Those animals had been known to turn and attack the hunters.
Sunny had helped to hollow out the bigger bones, converting them into containers and flutes. Other people had shaved the smaller bones into slices; fashioning them into needles, bodkins, fish hooks and barbed spears. Together, they had tanned the hides; massaging fat into the leather, before drying those skins, and cutting them into shape; making loincloths, tent coverings, satchels, and the slings they used to carry their babies.
These items had been deposited in the communal store, along with a little meat, which had been dried, smoked or salted, in preparation for the clans’ onward journeys. There were baskets filled with maize, manioc, beans and gourds. A small team had grown these foods on the wetlands. There was also a great deal of tobacco. Members of every clan had united to grow that crop, on the plains above the cliffs. It required an enormous amount of energy to process tobacco, the tribes-folk did not take it lightly, but the rewards justified the effort. Rumour had it that they had learnt how to produce tobacco from a distant tribe, who farmed it all year round. Although no-one could recall meeting such a tribe, nor could they understand why anyone would wish to toil for so long, to produce a single plant, when Mother Nature provided so many.
Next to this tobacco and meat, was a heap of groundnuts, and an even bigger pile of raw coffee. The ancestors had planted a coffee orchard, countless generations before. A small band of tribes-folk helped to pick, peel and dry the beans those trees supplied. Sparrow was among their number.
This communal store was bursting at the seams. And, now that the rainy season was drawing to an end, its contents needed to be shared.
Almost everyone had a wish list. If people had been allowed to help themselves, everything would have all been taken, and the latecomers would have been left with nothing.
To solve this dilemma, the tribes-folk elected a Women’s Council. Anyone who wanted an item, was invited to petition this panel.
Sunny knew exactly what he wanted: A new loincloth. When he had joined the queue, he had been pretty sure he would receive one. But now, after waiting for most of the day, his mind was riddled with doubt.
He stepped inside.
The smell of leather hit him immediately. But it quickly dissolved into a potpourri of disparate aromas; a combination of nuts, bone, cinnamon, cardamom, and a scent he was unable to name. He was sure he had come across that fragrance before. But in here, it seemed more pronounced. It clogged his nostrils and filled his throat.
Sunny cast his gaze along the line of ladies, who were squeezed together on a modest bench. Almost all of them were shorter than Sunny. Most lacked his physique. Yet despite this, he felt they were looming over him; dressed in a cloak of maturity, which made him shrink in their presence.
It was the first time Sunny had ever addressed this council. In previous seasons, his mother had petitioned them on his behalf. He was unsure if he should speak, and only did so after an uncomfortable pause, during which one woman smacked her lips, another sighed, a bird entered the tent, flew around, tried to escape, conceded defeat, and perched on top of a pile of nuts.
“This loincloth is wearing thin. Look at these holes… Yes, just here… They’re small, but they’re growing. And… You know… This fur is wearing thin. And it’s become an effort to strap. It used to be the perfect fit. But I feel… And I feel I’ve outgrown it.”
Sunny had intended to stop. But he was disturbed by the ensuing silence. And so he found himself speaking again, much to his own surprise:
“Dearest aunties: I helped to hunt the animals who provided this leather. It’s just… Well, I helped to tan their hides. I’m particularly taken by one such loincloth, which I’ve tried on already… That one… Yes, that’s correct. That one there… I only ask that you give me this single loincloth. I’ve helped to make several, and I’m only asking for one.”
A small pause ensued. Only this time, the silence did not last.
A councillor lifted her chin.
Sunny thought this woman was called Tobacco, but he could have been mistaken. He had seen her on one of the ledges near their caves, but they had never spoken. The woman scared him. There was something in her eyes, with their tiny pupils, that made him want to run. Her shoulders were in constant motion, shuddering and jolting, but her breasts never seemed to move. She had shrivelled skin and scrawny arms, which was not so strange. But her frail appearance clashed with her booming voice.
“And you think, just because you helped to tan and cut this leather, that you have some sort of ancestral right to keep it?”
Sunny shook his head.
“Tell us boy!” She elongated the word “Boy” for an unreasonable amount of time. “Boi… oi… oi… oi… oi… Did you help to gather any nuts?”
The rains came gushing down, pounding the tent, beating a discordant rhythm; all drums, cymbals and bass.
Sunny shook his head.
“Then, by such logic, you shouldn’t be granted any nuts… Yet, I’d bet our last bead that you’ll eat them. Someone will come in here on your clan’s behalf, claim those nuts, and share them with you at your camp.”
Sunny bowed his eyes.
“This is the white man’s burden. We come in God’s name, to save your souls from damnation, so that you might enter paradise, which we call ‘Heaven’, and exist in eternal bliss.
“In the Lord’s name, let it be said: Once you come to realise the errors of your ways, you’ll understand the good we’ve done, saving you from yourselves.”
Sunny could not help but notice the change in Father Ralph’s speech. It had found a rhythm. The missionary still paused between sentences, to savour the taste of his self-righteousness. But he no longer stumbled between words. Perhaps he had rehearsed this lecture to the point of perfection. Or perhaps had mastered their language.
Sunny was impressed. But Bear was unmoved. Sunny could tell as much from the way she puckered her lips, revealing the pinkish skin inside her mouth, and by the way her eyes meandered towards the stars.
But Bear shielded her disapproval from Father Ralph; maintaining a gracious smile, whilst speaking in a kindly voice:
“Our esteemed brother: We’re already in paradise. Look around you! We’re surrounded by the people we love. We have a wonderful community, all the food we can eat, and all the time in the world. We have art, walks, conversation, stories, sport, music and sex. Why would we need your… What did you say it was called?... Okay, yes: Your ‘Heaven’?”
A short silence ensued. Father Ralph must have understood the tribe’s custom.
Bear gestured for him to respond.
“It’s not ‘Our’ heaven. It’s everyone’s heaven. And you need it, because your so-called ‘Ancestral forests’ don’t actually exist. God will punish you for this heresy. As it is written: The cowardly, faithless and detestable; the murderers, perverts, sorcerers, idolaters and liars; they shall be taken to a lake that burns with fire and sulphur, where they shall endure a second death, and be tortured day and night.
“But there is hope! For God is good and God is love. Let Jesus into your heart, follow the righteous path, and you shall be saved. You shall enter heaven; a place where the gates are made of pearl, the streets are lined with gold, and everything is illuminated by the divine light of the Lord. Hallelujah, praise the Lord!”
Upon hearing these revelations, a hand shot up so quickly, it propelled the body to which it was attached; lifting that person to her feet.
This woman, named Protectress, was different from her peers. Whilst they took great pleasure from eating meat, she only ate fruit, leaves, tubers, excrement and ash. Whilst her peers loved to engage in idle conversation, Protectress liked to disappear into the wilderness, to commune with nature alone. She had a habit of falling into epileptic trances, speaking in tongues for several days. She wore her hair long, or short, or replaced it with feathers. Sometimes she made herself look like a man. Sometimes she walked around naked. She had been known to fast for days, balance on her head for entire nights, and perch upon a branch like a bird.
Protectress’s behaviour was unique. Very few people claimed to understand her. But she was one of their own. Her clans-folk loved her, and were happy to accept her quirks. There was a general belief that she was mentally ill, but that her illness had come about because she had been touched by Mother Nature. She was even revered. In times of trouble, the members of her clan turned to Protectress for guidance; asking her to call the rains, or lead them to fertile land. Things were a little different in the Big Camp. The security forces had beaten her, when she was younger. But even they now accepted her ways.
Having leapt to her feet, Protectress was standing as tall as her crooked back would permit. The people behind her were staring at the peg which had been clamped to her anus. Her malformed arms were flailing about, and her eyes were gazing in different directions.
She had won the group’s attention:
“I’m familiar with this ‘Heaven’ of which you speak. I’ve frequented that place on no fewer than one separate occasion. And yes, I’ll admit, it seems like a fine old camp. There are, as you say, a few sets of pearly gates. The pathways are so spangly, they could blind an arthritic goat.
“Skip-bop, da doo-bop. Screech! Doo-wop, di doo-bop.
“But glimpse beneath the surface! Glimpse, glimpse, glimpse. Ooh jiggedy! You’ll be aghast at what you’ll find. This heaven is a cold, heartless void! There are no discussions, debates or votes. Skiddly nope! The people in this ‘Heaven’ are slaves to a tyrant they call ‘God’.
“Skiddly-doo, bee-bop, shoo-wop.
“I couldn’t cope in that ghastly place, and neither could you. It’s a wiggly-woggly-Woggy place. It’s not for freedom-lovers like us.”
Father Ralph’s brow crumpled into furrows of red and pink. He had played out this scene in his mind, on twenty or thirty occasions. He had imagined a plethora of different reactions, and worked out a way to respond to each. But he had not anticipated a response like this.
He fired off his reply without pausing for the customary period:
“Blasphemy!... Holy Moly!... Goodness gracious... What a… What a dang notion!... You cannot possibly… You cannot possibly have been to heaven! Heaven is… Heaven is for the dead.”
Protectress did wait in silence, before agreeing with Father Ralph:
“Yes. Heaven is for the dead. I was dead when I visited. Dead, dead, dead.”
“You’re not… You’re not dead.”
Pause.
“I came back to life.”
“Preposterous!... People… We… Cannot… Die... We cannot die and come back to life.”
Pause.
“Can’t we?”
Father Ralph thought better than to reply. He was still keen to introduce Jesus; a man who had risen from the dead. And he sensed that no good would come from arguing with a woman who was quite clearly insane.
He turned to Bear.
The chairperson had recovered her calm. Even from a distance, Sunny could tell that her face had softened. Her eyeballs had expanded. Her cheeks were soft and airy:
“Let’s say, for argument's sake, that you’re correct. This heaven is a fine place. We should all wish to enter… What would you have us do to gain admittance?”
Bear’s welcoming tone had the desired effect; encouraging Father Ralph to relax.
The missionary closed his eyes, crossed himself, and rediscovered his rhythm:
“We ask that you invite Jesus into your hearts. Love the one true God, creator and master of the universe. Follow his commandments. Don’t worship false idols; these ‘Ancestors’ and this so-called ‘Mother Nature’. Don’t engage in sin. Choose a partner, and commit to her for life. Cover your shameful bodies. Rest on the Sabbath. Love your neighbours. Love your enemies. Praise the Lord.”
Pause.
“And if we don’t do as you say?”
Pause.
“If you accept my olive branch, God will save your soul. You’ll find bliss in the Kingdom of Heaven. And I’ll do everything I can to ensure you’re protected on earth. No sword shall be swung in anger, and no shot shall be fired in vain. Our conquering army is good and pure. They wouldn’t kill a fellow Christian.
“But if you’re stubborn, if you resist, then I’m afraid you’ll be on your own. I’ll pray for your souls. But the righteous may slay you. Your souls might burn in eternal hellfire.”
Pause.
“Bribes and threats?”
Father Ralph did not respond. But it was clear what Bear was saying: This outsider was no different from Hunter, who had also tried to entice them, before giving up and resorting to threats. Sunny had disliked Father Ralph from the get-go. He disliked him even more now. This man was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He might have spoken of love. But he wanted them to abandon the very things they loved the most.
“A promise of protection.”
Bear responded with her right hand; holding her fingers flat, and clapping them against her thumb, to make them look like a chattering mouth.
She opened her palm, held it aside her ear, and flicked it away; the gesture the tribes-folk performed, whenever they heard a lie.
And she left it to Serenity to respond:
“I spoke before of an imminent threat. The Wogies are here. They do have the power to kill us all… Now, I don’t claim to like this man. But if he can save our lives… If he can act as a mediator, and prevent a war… Then, sistren and brethren, we should open our ears to his mouth.”
Pause.
“Esteemed brother: Do you trust this man?”
Pause.
“Certainly not.”
Pause.
“So this might be a trap?”
Serenity nodded.
“And you think we should walk straight in?”
Pause.
“Sistren and brethren: I think it’s our least bad option.”
Bear thumbed her flabby chin, turned her torso but not her hips, and gestured towards the other representatives.
“Is there anyone here who wishes to commit to a single lover for the whole of their mortal life? Even if it makes them unhappy?... For the good of the tribe, we should be able to reject unhappiness. Yet if we were to bow to this man’s commands, such a thing could never happen. We’d be locked into miserable relationships. We’d grow exasperated. We’d start arguments, fights and wars. We’d destroy ourselves from within.
“Esteemed sisters: This ‘One partner for life’ malarkey is quite clearly a TRAP!”
Sunny noticed that almost everyone was nodding. The auditorium glistened as their heads bobbed up and down, reflecting the firelight in a thousand different directions.
It was left to another representative to have the final say:
“We spoke in private… Yes, I see you remember… You told me that this ‘God’ character, this ‘One True God’, came down to earth; revealing herself to one set of people, at one specific time.
“Please explain to our gathered tribe: Why on earth and the ancestral realm would she behave in such a fashion?
“If this spirit mother could reveal herself, why didn’t she do so in full view of everyone; descending in triumph, with pomp and majesty? Why didn’t she visit every tribe? Why didn’t she visit us? And why did she visit your people, of all the people in nature? What makes you so very special?
“Brother stranger: Each tribe has its own beliefs. Yet you, in your arrogance, claim that only yours are righteous. That we must obey your rules, or be damned forever.
“What vanity! Your ego is the size of the moon!”
OF LOVE AND LOINCLOTHS
The camp had expanded a little, and then it had fixed itself in place. What had once felt wondrous, now possessed the odourless air of the mundane.
Parallel to the cliffs, a wide avenue divided several clusters of teepees, tupiks and marquees. Pathways had formed between these temporary homes; battered into position by a thousand forgotten footsteps, misshapen by the rains, and reinvented with each passing storm.
At one end of that avenue, the Sacred Circle was fully decorated. Its posts were covered in images of hunters, beasts, fishes, plants and spirits. The surrounding slopes were brown with earth. The grass had been flattened, the ground was pockmarked with footprints, and the fire pit was white with ash.
Alongside the avenue, opposite the cliffs, a field was being used to host the Tribal Games. These were taking place every day, now the city was fully built, and the tribe had ample reserves of food. The most popular game was called chunkey. Players took turns to launch logs at a rolling sphere, whilst running as fast as they could; attempting to land their poles within a whisker of that moving target, without making any contact. Tribes-folk also played a ball game, and a version of lacrosse. They wrestled, boxed, held spear-throwing contests and archery competitions. Large crowds gathered to watch these spectacles. They gambled thousands of beads, and smoked copious amounts of tobacco.
Beyond this arena, beneath the caves which were being used to store meat, was the tribe’s communal store. This was by far the biggest structure in the camp. It loomed high above the other tents, casting a shadow which engulfed the avenue.
That tent was filled with an abundance of different things…
The buff antelope from the first hunt had all been eaten. But their remains had been repurposed and placed in this store. The largest antlers had been turned into pickaxes and mattocks. The remainder had been converted into headdresses, which would be used during spiritual ceremonies. The teeth had been made into beads.
The tribes-folk had not only hunted antelope. They had killed hundreds of gazelles, a good number of wild boars, and a few of the frailer buffalo. They avoided the stronger buffalo, because the risks were too great. Those animals had been known to turn and attack the hunters.
Sunny had helped to hollow out the bigger bones, converting them into containers and flutes. Other people had shaved the smaller bones into slices; fashioning them into needles, bodkins, fish hooks and barbed spears. Together, they had tanned the hides; massaging fat into the leather, before drying those skins, and cutting them into shape; making loincloths, tent coverings, satchels, and the slings they used to carry their babies.
These items had been deposited in the communal store, along with a little meat, which had been dried, smoked or salted, in preparation for the clans’ onward journeys. There were baskets filled with maize, manioc, beans and gourds. A small team had grown these foods on the wetlands. There was also a great deal of tobacco. Members of every clan had united to grow that crop, on the plains above the cliffs. It required an enormous amount of energy to process tobacco, the tribes-folk did not take it lightly, but the rewards justified the effort. Rumour had it that they had learnt how to produce tobacco from a distant tribe, who farmed it all year round. Although no-one could recall meeting such a tribe, nor could they understand why anyone would wish to toil for so long, to produce a single plant, when Mother Nature provided so many.
Next to this tobacco and meat, was a heap of groundnuts, and an even bigger pile of raw coffee. The ancestors had planted a coffee orchard, countless generations before. A small band of tribes-folk helped to pick, peel and dry the beans those trees supplied. Sparrow was among their number.
This communal store was bursting at the seams. And, now that the rainy season was drawing to an end, its contents needed to be shared.
Almost everyone had a wish list. If people had been allowed to help themselves, everything would have all been taken, and the latecomers would have been left with nothing.
To solve this dilemma, the tribes-folk elected a Women’s Council. Anyone who wanted an item, was invited to petition this panel.
Sunny knew exactly what he wanted: A new loincloth. When he had joined the queue, he had been pretty sure he would receive one. But now, after waiting for most of the day, his mind was riddled with doubt.
He stepped inside.
The smell of leather hit him immediately. But it quickly dissolved into a potpourri of disparate aromas; a combination of nuts, bone, cinnamon, cardamom, and a scent he was unable to name. He was sure he had come across that fragrance before. But in here, it seemed more pronounced. It clogged his nostrils and filled his throat.
Sunny cast his gaze along the line of ladies, who were squeezed together on a modest bench. Almost all of them were shorter than Sunny. Most lacked his physique. Yet despite this, he felt they were looming over him; dressed in a cloak of maturity, which made him shrink in their presence.
It was the first time Sunny had ever addressed this council. In previous seasons, his mother had petitioned them on his behalf. He was unsure if he should speak, and only did so after an uncomfortable pause, during which one woman smacked her lips, another sighed, a bird entered the tent, flew around, tried to escape, conceded defeat, and perched on top of a pile of nuts.
“This loincloth is wearing thin. Look at these holes… Yes, just here… They’re small, but they’re growing. And… You know… This fur is wearing thin. And it’s become an effort to strap. It used to be the perfect fit. But I feel… And I feel I’ve outgrown it.”
Sunny had intended to stop. But he was disturbed by the ensuing silence. And so he found himself speaking again, much to his own surprise:
“Dearest aunties: I helped to hunt the animals who provided this leather. It’s just… Well, I helped to tan their hides. I’m particularly taken by one such loincloth, which I’ve tried on already… That one… Yes, that’s correct. That one there… I only ask that you give me this single loincloth. I’ve helped to make several, and I’m only asking for one.”
A small pause ensued. Only this time, the silence did not last.
A councillor lifted her chin.
Sunny thought this woman was called Tobacco, but he could have been mistaken. He had seen her on one of the ledges near their caves, but they had never spoken. The woman scared him. There was something in her eyes, with their tiny pupils, that made him want to run. Her shoulders were in constant motion, shuddering and jolting, but her breasts never seemed to move. She had shrivelled skin and scrawny arms, which was not so strange. But her frail appearance clashed with her booming voice.
“And you think, just because you helped to tan and cut this leather, that you have some sort of ancestral right to keep it?”
Sunny shook his head.
“Tell us boy!” She elongated the word “Boy” for an unreasonable amount of time. “Boi… oi… oi… oi… oi… Did you help to gather any nuts?”
The rains came gushing down, pounding the tent, beating a discordant rhythm; all drums, cymbals and bass.
Sunny shook his head.
“Then, by such logic, you shouldn’t be granted any nuts… Yet, I’d bet our last bead that you’ll eat them. Someone will come in here on your clan’s behalf, claim those nuts, and share them with you at your camp.”
Sunny bowed his eyes.
