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 Kiyama (Book Excerpt)by Diana Kemp-Jones The Alternate Universe of Diana Kemp-Jones Page 5 of 6 "An oasis in an arid land," I said wonderingly. "How is this possible?" Nsangue dipped her jug into the bubbling stream. Bells distantly chimed to the lowing of animals. I glanced out a nearby window and noticed a herd of horned, goat-like creatures grazing in a cultivated field. Youngsters playfully bucked and charged their indulgent parents, their lush coats mottled with brown and gold. I smiled at their charming antics. "The stream of life heals and nurtures," said Nsangue. "It is the spiritual core of our people." She handed me the water jug. I sipped from it, savoring a pure sweetness that lingered in my mouth as we wandered outside to a lush, grassy area bordering the commune. A sense of wellbeing suffused me as I surveyed the peaceful scene. I smiled as children and their pets, furry, long-snouted creatures with endearing whinnies, romped while women picked shiny red pods from a surrounding bank of thick, prickly green hedges. I watched in amazement as two women balanced a tall basket atop their heads and calmly walked toward the commune without supporting them. Babies hung in slings across their mothers backs, their lusty yawls a triumphant song of their own. Nearby, teams of men and teenage boys prepared the foundation for a new commune. "These are Aruna pods," said Nsangue, extending a thorny branch drooping with the weighty pods gleaming with a lacquered red shine. "Crushed, they produce the finest tea. The powder also has many medicinal properties." She handed me the basket and set the water jug on the grass. "The honor of gathering will be yours. You must remember to always fill the basket. The stream of life provides abundance for all. We must honor the gift." I reached toward the glossy hedge, the sun a warm kiss on my back. The crescent pods snapped off easily, emitting dusty red puffs. Nsangue hummed while I stuffed the basket to the brim. Suddenly, a wet nose snuffled against my ankle. I looked down in surprise as a plump gray furball affectionately nuzzled my foot. "I think he likes you," said Nsangue with a laugh. "They are usually quite shy with strangers." I smiled and reached down to pet the odd creature. It immediately rolled onto its side and began the most beguiling purr. My hand sank into thick, luxuriant fur, the little creature's stubby legs and knobby tail trembling with pleasure. Shiny black eyes regarded me with near adulation as I caressed a callused paw. "They're delightful! What are they called?" "Mirobi," said Nsangue. "Or 'wandering pouches'. Long ago, they used to be a food source until someone decided to tame them. Once that happened, of course, there was no question of eating them." "I don't think that would be very popular with the children," I said, noticing that almost every child of walking age had one of the creatures as a pet. "Nothing else? No birds or other small animal?" "Nothing else comes close to the Mirobi. They are quite cunning, you know. It is impossible to resist them." Nsangue leaned toward me with a conspiratorial look in her eyes. "Don't say a word," she whispered, "but Badarou has two … on loan to the children, naturally." I could not conceal my grin. "Naturally." As I reluctantly extricated myself from the ecstatic Mirobi, the children ceased their frolicking and formed a large, lopsided circle. A herd of Mirobi obediently trundled to their sides, my little admirer hastily joining their ranks. I recognized Renwati and the girls standing at the head of the group. His handsome profile already hinted at the man he would become; his beautiful sisters already bore the same regal grace as Nsangue. A distinguished older woman clad in yellow and scarlet robes emerged from the commune and approached the circle. Her arms cradling it as thought she were a child, she carried a magnificently carved lute. Again, I noticed the curious tattoo of intersecting circles, but it was positioned on her right temple. The lute was a polished marriage of several rich woods. It gleamed in the sunshine like a lustrous jewel. The woman uttered a brief salutation and presented the instrument to Renwati. He bowed and sat crosslegged on the grass. The remaining children followed his example. An expectant hush fell over the commune. I found myself holding my breath as I watched the proceedings with growing anticipation. Closing his eyes, Renwati meditated for a moment before his fingers flew magically over the strings to produce the most enchanting tune. Beside him, Tanifah rose began to sing in an exquisite voice that merged with the instrument. Meanwhile, little Dhoman got to her feet and began to dance, her body lithe and assured as she swayed to the hypnotic beat. 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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