Bride Prize

One: Tersoo reveals his intention to marry Iveren

A panoramic view revealed a beautiful green countryside on a cloudy but bright sunny day of semi-forest vegetation, with hills lining the horizon valleys snaking around the hillside and streams bubbling with fast running water thru cloisters of thick shrubbery.

Footpaths crisscrossed the only motor able road that ran in a long winding route thru the village settlements and farmlands. This was purely an agrarian society, with farming as their primary occupation, followed by hunting especially in the dry season and trading.

The dusty motorway was sandy for the most part with an endless ridge splitting down the middle, banked on either side by shrubs and grass which grew really tall during the rainy seasons.

A young man was riding a bicycle on this lonely road. Tersoo, twenty-three, average height with a strong muscular physique and coffee brown complexion, could easily pass for a wrestler from the confident manner he carried his stamina.  An otherwise shy but hardworking farmer, this young man was soft spoken and not easily provoked.

Tersoo glided his bicycle into the courtyard of the large hamlet and dismounted, parked his bicycle beside one of the wooden pillars of the open-sided thatched shed at the center of the compound and stooped to enter the shed.

 There is small talk going on inside the hut when Tersoo arrived.

“Good afternoon to you all,” Tersoo said.

All eyes turned up to focus on the new entrant. A small idle fire in the center of the hut is slowly burning a thick log, letting up a thin spiral of smoke.

Native decorations hang among the concentric rafters of the thatched roof each connoting its spiritual ancestry: tiny clay pots the size of tea cups stuffed with feathers of all kinds of birds; among the suspensions are the foot of an owl and the horn of an antelope. This was a common sight in every hamlet across the villages.

Zasha, fifty, who is obviously the eldest is relaxed in a low wooden carved chair closest to the fire, his tobacco pipe on the floor beside him. Dark complexion, of average height with square shoulders, Zasha was a jovial looking, simple easy going man without complications and likeable. But below this jovial mien, lied a potent anger that when provoked could become deadly. He has a handwoven cloth thrown carelessly over his bulky shoulders and wearing baggy shorts, his big feet rested on sturdy slippers locally made from motor vehicle tire.

Facing Zasha from across the open-sided hut are his two brothers, Bagu and Torkuma. Bagu is about forty-five, slightly shorter than Zasha, also dark in complexion and a simple minded character that was easy to get along with. He wore a sleeveless vest over shorts.
         
Torkuma is forty years of age, lighter in complexion compared to his two elder brothers and the tallest among them. He is also the toughest one of the bunch, difficult to deal with, took no nonsense and has a fiery temper.

Bagu and Torkuma fix their gaze on the visitor, an amused look on their faces. 

Tersoo avoided their gaze, instead directed his attention to Zasha. “Good afternoon, sir.”

Zasha’s eyes ran over Tersoo with studied interest, but he said nothing.

Tersoo remained standing, looking uneasily over at the other two men.

Torkuma came to the young man’s rescue. He tapped beside him on the smooth surface of the big tree trunk that he was sitting on.

“My friend, why not sit down here and rest your feet,” he said. “Then you can tell us what this is all about.” 

Tersoo lowered his frame onto the seat indicated by Torkuma, unsure of himself. “Well, I – I am sorry if I came at the wrong time – “ he stammered, but Zasha quickly allayed his fears by waving his hand at Torkuma.