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 Kiyama (Book Excerpt)by Diana Kemp-Jones The Alternate Universe of Diana Kemp-Jones Page 4 of 6 Prompted by an eerie sense of déjà vu, I approached the building. My anxiety increased as I spotted a series of pictographs adorning the commune walls. I knew even from a distance that they depicted the Omoro chronicle. An arched doorway opened as I neared the entrance, the walls dancing with life-sized pictographs displaying the images of my ancestors and their strange, star-bound vehicles. I approached them and traced their outlines with my fingers while in my mind hushed voices whispered ancient tales. Coolness wafted from the commune's interior. A refreshing draft ruffled my hair and caressed my face. The drumbeat softened into a gentle heartbeat as five Omoro appeared from the shadows. With a thrill of recognition, I regarded two adults and three children. Joy filled my heart and buoyed my spirits as I realized I was no longer alone. The group approached slowly. Poised, ebony and willowy-limbed, their heads were adorned by elaborately coiled braids beaded with amber, coral and other precious stones. Golden thread glinted from the colorful batik print of their robes. Beautifully crafted jewelry of amber and gold adorned their wrists, ankles, ears and necks. The elder, a man of noble stature and warm, patrician features wore an embroidered sash of rank adorned by a large ruby the shape of a bird's egg. My eyes were drawn to a small tattoo on his left temple depicting several intersecting circles. He smiled and bowed, his deep chocolate eyes and rich voice familiar. "Welcome to the homeworld, Kanuwe," he said. "I am Badarou, Elder of the Sofouru Commune." He turned to the others who smiled warmly at me. "This is my wife, Nsangue; my son, Renwati and daughters Tanifah and Dhoman." We bowed in greeting, the action instinctive on my part. I stared at Badarou. He smiled and nodded. "We have already spoken," he said. "I was present at your awakening." I recalled the spectral faces in the tanks and glanced questioningly at the others. A shudder coursed through me as I thought of such a hellish incarceration. I wondered whether immortality was worth such a price. "Such an existence was not their wish," said Badarou, reading my expression. "And I would not have insisted." A question half-formed on my lips. Badarou's eyes misted as he gazed toward the lake and the majestic mountain range beyond. "Look around you, Kanuwe. Such is the beauty of Omori, our home; a world of peace and prosperity, a people at one with nature." Moving with regal grace, Nsangue approached me and took my arm. She smelled of musk and spice, the drowsy warmth accentuating the enticing aroma. When she smiled, her teeth were a flash of ivory against flawless, dusky skin. Ankle bracelets tinkled delightfully as she moved. Her mahogany eyes melted into mine, her velvety touch a calming salve against the questions roiling in my mind. "It is time to meet your ancestors, Kanuwe," she said, leaving the others behind. "Come help me prepare for the evening tea ceremony." We entered the deliciously cool retreat of the commune. Tiled fountains soothingly splashed amidst handcrafted furnishings of wood, metal and stone. Colorful tapestries, basketry and bold sculptures adorned niches and walls, reflecting muted sunlight from artfully angled windows and skylights. The setting was serene and peaceful, an embodiment of the Omoro persona. "This is wonderful," I said as I admired the lovingly crafted décor. My fingers strayed to a mosaic plaque of the commune placed to receive the filtered light from a nearby window. Vivid colors blazed with feral intensity. Nsangue pointed to a dramatic copper mask displayed over an arched fireplace. "Many pieces are forged from Badarou's hand," she said, retrieving a deep tri-color basket and a small terracotta jug from a wooden cabinet. "I enjoy basketry and weaving. The children are gifted in music. Each Omoro has a special talent. It is a gift we honor by bringing it to life." A glass-enclosed cabinet situated in the corner of the room away from the light caught my attention. Nsangue said nothing as I approached it, my eyes riveted to a magnificently carved shield bisected by a pair of spears. Though the detail closely resembled the other artwork in the room, something about it seemed different. It exuded a sense of ancientness that spanned longer than I could imagine. "You recognize the soul of the clansmen," Nsangue observed. "They were the original tribe. We call them the forefathers." I touched the glass. "Kabila" I said, unsure why the strange word had suddenly appeared in my mind. "Our heritage is long and noble, Kanuwe. Always remember that." "I feel something," I said, looking around the room as though seeking an answer to my confusion. "This place is a crossroads." "Omori anchors us to the spiritual and physical world. One cannot exist without the other." I pondered her words as she led me to a central atrium garden. Sunshine filtered through verdant foliage, dappling a natural stream alive with delicate opaline fish and tiny green turtles. Women and young girls tended the multitude of greenery and polished intricately tiled pathways and bridges. A lovely teenager with fawn eyes cut the magnificent coral blooms from a long-stalked bush and placed them in a basket. Jewel-colored birds flitted from the branches, filling the air with delightful song. A sensation of gentle energy rippled through me. Copyright© 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002 Diana Kemp-Jones, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. |
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