Lions and Wildebeests

Chapter 5

Finally, after about 8 mths, I have decided to post another chapter. Sorry for the delay, and to all my new readers, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy! Please PLEASE comment, I love critique!!!! Thanks again.

Chapter 5: Late

Is the journey into adulthood forever painful?

                I sat up. The day had come. Today, my brother and I would endure whatever mysterious wonders our sisters had endured. I jumped up and ran back to the village, avoiding the Makishi dancers as much as I could. Abdel watched me from under a tree not too far in the distance, and in my heart, I asked him to wish God’s blessings upon me. Abdel hummed and watched as I slung the blanket over my shoulder and hoped my speed did not fail me. It did not, and I burst into the hut just as Saburi was getting up.

            “You’re late,” she noted. “Mother and Father have not gotten up yet.”

            She took my hand, “Are you truly ready for this?”

            “How else shall a boy consider me for his wife?”

            Saburi grinned and brushed her palm against my face. She stood up and grabbed a bowl.

            “I have made you breakfast before your journey…”

            I grinned and ate the bota (porridge, much like sadza, of cornmeal and water sweetened with jam).

            “It will not be so bad, Sweetie,” she murmured.

            I snuffed up my breakfast and looked at her; she only called me that when something about me worried her. I did not want to know what; I could not back out now. I turned as the elders began summoning us: all the grandparents and wise people in our village. I thanked Saburi as Betserai made his ecstatic entrance. He ate his last meal and said his last good-bye to our mother.

            “Come, most honorable, the Makishi dancers are here,” my father said, and he looked at me along with my brother.

            The Makishi dancers only come during special times, one being the mukanda or the circumcision ceremony for the boys. It was about their time because it was near the dry season, but they were slightly early this year. Anyway, they were here to guide the boys into manhood and keep overprotective mothers at bay. Their masks are mysterious as is their presence, though fascinating all the same. The wonders of the coming of age ceremony can be different for every tribe and village, even if they share common heritage, depending on what traditions they uphold and which they abandon due to modern times as well as which other tribes influence them and which with whom they may mix. My village upholds many old time traditions.

            I followed my father as he escorted my brother and me to the group of children. The boys and the girls split up. Some looked extremely worried while others were excited and others looked scared. Ranako was one of the unreadable faces in the crowd. My mother put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a charm depicting the Zimbabwe bird.

            “Our ancestors be with you…” she murmured.

            “You keep it. You need it more than I. Besides, you love it, right?”

            She nodded. It had been passed down through our family for generations, and I surely did not want it, not my disgraceful self.

            Nabila and Anotida walked arm in arm, and they did not pay any attention to me. I felt more cut off from society than I ever had with no one to console me or walk with me in this time. The twins had had each other like Nabila and Anotida.