SUSANNA

17| THE ANCESTORS HAVE SPOKEN

Gogosoa, short and stout with a belly that protruded over the leopard skin around his waist, sat on a tree stump fashioned into a high-back throne-ish shape. On his head was an array of colourful feathers of different birds, weaved into a garland perched on his forehead. Animal teeth, skin, feathers, and tails adorned his earlobes, neck, arms, legs, and ankles. In his right hand was his assegai, firm between his fingers. His oval-shaped face, skirted by a salt and pepper beard, were glued to the speakers that rose to their feet with little haste and much dramatic effect, said their piece and sat down.

Gogosoa earned respect through his hunting prowess in his youth and as such he was the most important man around the orange glow of the fire that danced across his naked shoulders. Broad shoulders on which rested the weight of his responsibilities as a leader. And, seated in the centre of the small hunter-gatherer community around the hearth of his fire, following the input of every speaker, soaking in every emotion. They were his people, his ears, hands, and feet, and he was their future.

One of his most fearless hunters and decorated warriors, Nommoa rose. 'Tsui-// Goab is angry. Our people are restless. Have we ever asked why?'

Gogosoa's gaze shifted, for the first time. His eyes examined the faces of his sons who flanked Nommoa. They were in awe of Nommoa, hanging onto every word. The young hunter had become a huge influence in their lives after he returned from across the big waters. 'And what, might I ask, is Tsui angry about?'

Nommoa paused. The expression on his face was perplexed, uncertain. He did not expect his leader's interrogation but it lifted his spirit for it meant he had captivated the ears of Gogosoa. And he knew that the Wise Ones with their beards of different shades and shapes, eyes half-closed and fixed on nothing and no one in particular were attentive to the leader's questions. Their faces, leathery and lined from old age disclosed no emotion as they sucked on their pipes while the smoke billowed from their nostrils and cast a hazy cloud around their circle lined with only the softest of furs and skins. Knowing they were listening, he knew his success depended on winning their heads and their hearts.

'Tsui had always been faithful to us.' He waited for the nodding to subside. 'And we to him.' He pointed his assegai into the air. 'He fills our bellies and keeps the mountains and the forests full of wild animals. Every winter he opens heaven and sends us rain all the way down from Hoerikwagga which fills our beloved Camissa with water sweeter than the honey of the bee.' His words were met with a choir of clicks and murmurs of agreement. 'And, when we return in spring and we find the trees and forests pregnant with fruit and berries, he moves our feet to dancing and fill our our hearts with thankfulness for the earth that gives birth to the grass that gives life to our the animals.' More approval, louder than before erupted. 'We never neglected to praise him for everything he provides. Everything, from the sun and the rain to the berries, the roots, and the fruit for the wives and young ones.' He knelt in front of Gogosoa. 'But, something is wrong, mighty one. Something is wrong.' He put his free hand on heart. 'Inside here Nommoa, he feels it.'

Gogosoa remained expressionless, gauging the faces of the Wise Ones abd all those gathered around the fire. Nommoa was his best hunter and most treasured warrior but at times he lacked in the department of longterm vision. His restless temperament centred around concepts such as here, now and immediately, always ready to reveal what troubled his heart. This trait made it difficult to keep the peace among the elders whose world rotated at a much slower pace.

'Nommoa my fearless hunter, your shadow is bigger than that of the elephant, but your shade is getting smaller. You are restless. All the time You walk like a lion with a thorn in his paw. Why is this so?'

Nommoa bowed his head and out his hand on his hear. 'Nommoa's heart is, indeed, full of anger.'

'We can see that. Can you share exactly what fans this fire insude your breast?'