Redemption

The story of these landscapes is the narrative of the Ndina and the Noka. If you look keenly at the craggy hills and the thorny plains below, you can't help agreeing with the adage that says that when two elephants fight, it is the grass that gets hurt. The forlorn landscape that you now see is the work of only a few weeks of stubbornness and blindness; failure to seize an opportunity brokered by the plain goddess of peace. It was once a thick carpet of pasture, irrigated by the cool waters of the Kuja River.

This plain occupied by our Noka people for centuries, has filled our granaries with cereals as well as feeding our cattle.

The dark clay soil which turns into a sticky cumbersome mud, during the rains, was once covered by a green carpet of lush pasture-land which fed hundreds of herds of cattle, and supported cereal growing. Those craggy hills running parallel to this long wide plain, the source of the now seasonal Kuja, are the famous Ndina hills. Beyond those hills dwell the Ndina, your future in-laws, once a war-like pastoral community, whose cattle raids on the plains below were dreaded by Jo-Noka.

The story I'm itching to narrate to you my nephew, is not about our hero Bonde Jereman, whose first name actually means rock. Neither is the tale about the invincible Ndina magician, Italelko Moeisa. It is your story and Chebet's, because the gods are not foolish to give us another chance.

This is the rarely told narrative, which captures the lost hope, and beauty of the twin landscapes. It is the tragedy of two young people: one from the plains and another from beyond the hills. The story of Ligisa and Biwon can only be whispered, because they defied the expectations of the two communities, urged on by the invisible hands of gods. Having accidentally met one afternoon while Ligisa had come from drawing water from the river, the unthinkable happened. Perhaps it was fate drawing them together, or maybe it was fatal attraction. He asked her for water to quench his thirst.

Customarily denying a stranger water is considered taboo here in Noka. On the other hand, it is deemed inappropriate for anyone, particularly a lone girl, to allow a stranger to draw water from her water-pot midway from home. Ordinarily a wayfarer would quench his thirst directly from the river, or enter a homestead to ask for water, where his business would be thoroughly scrutinized. This way, if he had other motives he would be exposed. But on this particular day, it might have been the heat of the mid afternoon March sun that had made Ligisa a little giddy, or it might have been the tall captivating Ndina stranger.

His appearance was unexpected as it was unexplained; it is extraordinarily risky to stand in the middle of enemy territory in broad daylight and behave as if you were on a honey-moon. Yet he calmly stood under the shade of a fig tree, his slender left foot resting on his right knee, while his muscular right hand leaned on a strong stick stuck to the ground. He watched in captivation as Ligisa's figure swayed from side to side up the slight slope towards his direction. He watched in amazement at her elegant spontaneous movement, an ash-coloured water-pot balanced on her head.

He felt a little guilty, at the same time honored, to partake of this catwalk which he felt was in a class of its own. He wondered if she was rhythmically moving to the sound of some inaudible musical beat. He had only once witnessed a similar movement when atop Ndani hill; a lone leopard, was elegantly walking on the plains below, watchful but at the same time stalking a prey. He wondered whether in this case, he was the hunter or the prey. When she drew level with him, he took a risk only someone reckless would.

'Good afternoon jaber, I'm dying of thirst, can I have some water to drink?', He asked in halting Noka.

'Hmmm.....only if you are Bonde Jereman you may be honored with water, but I can't bring shame to my family over a simply matter of thirst', She cooed.

'As you can see, I'm not from these parts. But I'd consider it a great privilege to drink water only from your pot.' He tremulously pleaded.

May be it was his genteel manners that did the trick, for before she knew it, she brought had down her water-pot for only a calabash of its content.

As fate would have it, two things went wrong. First was the act of taking the delicately balanced water-pot from her head, ostensibly to give a stranger some water to drink. Secondly, as Biwon tried to put back the water-pot on top of her head after drinking, the water-pot slipped from his hand and broke into several pieces. Ligisa's anguished wail attracted a small crowd of curious women who amplified the tragedy by their own melodramatic ululations.

The ill-fated pot, a family souvenir, had dutifully served three generations of women on Ligisa's family side. In a purely nostalgic way it was irreplaceable.
Ordinarily, the act of compensating a water-pot or a broken taboo would be pretty straight-forward. However, in the current circumstances, matters were different: Biwon and Ligisa were from two communities that did not see eye to eye, or as was said in Noka, never drank water from the same calabash. Biwon from Ndina; Ligisa from Noka. In situations like these word usually spreads like bush-fire. Within only half hour of the incidence, Jaduong Babito, Ligisa's father and Aich Kasera the elder-man had arrived on the scene.

They explained to Biwon that to appease the Babito family for the loss of the pot he would have to pay four white rams, but for the taboo of drinking from Ligisa's water-pot the Noka would demand fifty heads of cattle. When news of Biwon's foolishness-as his people called it-reached them, they interpreted it to mean a declaration of war. Sober minds ,however, saw it as an opportunity to forge long lasting peace, or alliance between the two warring communities.

When calm prevailed, Biwon's family and the Ndani agreed to meet the Noka's demand on condition that Ligisa was given in marriage to Biwon. They speedily sent an emissary hoping that such a proposal would not only settle the current dispute, but also help to forge a lasting peace between these two communities based on marriage. Perhaps the expectation was too high or it was the off-hand attitude of the emissary. When rebuffed by hard-liners on the Noka side that marriage could not be an option in this case, because a taboo had been broken, he retorted that fifty heads of cattle was worth two beautiful Ndina girls, and Noka should be happy that Ligisa had easily found a suitor at the inconvenience of a calabash of water. That did it. The Noka delegation asked the arrogant emissary to take back a two week ultimatum to his people, during which war would be declared if their demands were not met.

Two weeks may seem very long in peace time, but when tension and uncertainty caused by an impending war hangs in the air, things can move pretty fast. This is especially so behind the scenes. Unbeknown to her parents, Ligisa had through a chain of clandestine go-between, given her consent to marry Biwon. It is really hard to tell whether this was her way of trying to solve a problem, which she felt was caused by her own whimsical act. However, her bosom friend Pati later confessed that Ligisa's heart had been stolen by the prince charming from Ndina, and nothing in the world would stop her from becoming Biwon's wife. She told Pati that she considered her intentions noble, that war was primitive and it had never solved anything in the world. Her last word was that if she couldn't marry Biwon, then she would rather die, and she hoped that her blood would redeem the two communities from their senseless enmity.

However, Noka declared war before the end of two weeks when word filtered that Ligisa had been abducted by the Ndina. No amount of explanation or appeasement could dissuade the Noka from repaying what they called Ndina insult added to the injury of breaking a taboo. The war that ensued was not only devastating, but went on for weeks and months. Raids, and counter-raids between Ndina and Noka rendered the villages uninhabitable; dwellings and homesteads were razed down. Utter desolation and wastage was what remained of the once thriving homesteads on both sides. More disturbing was the news that Biwon and Ligisa had fallen under a hail of arrows as they tried to flee from their hiding place. They had been betrayed by an insider who had a debt to score with Biwon.

Utter desolation rather than redemption, befell both the land beyond the hills and the plain below.

The long drought that followed the war had never been experienced here. It was as though the gods were angry that nobody was wise or obedient enough to take the olive branch brought by a Biwon and Ligisa betrothal that would have brought tranquility to a conflict running for years.

Despite seasons of rain and sunshine, these lands have remained the way you see them today. No amount of effort from us can change what the goddess of peace declared, except to do her bidding.

Now my son, you and your suitor are obeying the call of this unforeseen hand for the second chance to bring healing, and redemption to these wastelands. Go ahead, and never look back, for I hear the drums rolling, beckoning the dawn of a new day for the land beyond the hills and Noka plains.