Split the Eye (3)

Split The Eye (3)

By Clifford Oluoch.

The women came back from the river much happier than when they had left in the morning. The singing had resumed, the vocals blending harmoniously with the chirping of the early birds. They went about their normal chores as if nothing had happened. They milked the cows and goats, swept the compound and prepared morning porridge for their men. The mood was certainly ecstatic.
The very old women who had not been to the river that morning were each talked to separately and convinced of the importance of the women showing unity among them. None had problems agreeing as each of them had at one time been, and still were, a constant target of their over-aggressive men. A few of the much older ones were simply not told. They would be tugged along with the rest of the group when the time for leaving came.
By late afternoon, all the grown up women and girls were aware of the plan and it was not to be discussed at all. For once the women of Lotok had a secret and kept it to themselves.
“The sooner we leave the better it will be for us,” Kolo told one of her co-wives. “Otherwise the secret will leak out and we will all be dead meat.” The fears of being torn to pieces hang heavily behind the minds of the women. Kolo kept an eye on Nyangi, who for some strange reasons, looked extremely happy and easily excitable, an evil glint of mischief lurking in her eyes. Kolo was tense.
Come evening and everyone was back in his or her home. The boys were back from grazing and the men with their catch from the forests. No man suspected anything as things just looked normal, except restless Kolo who kept out of her husband’s way.
The sun set and night was ushered in uneventfully, the crickets welcoming the end of the day with their traditional song. At around midnight, when the moon was partly covered by the dark clouds and the crickets chirped the least, a young girl coughed, “Mama, I want to go for a long call. I am very pressed. May you please take me out?” she asked. Girls often slept with their mothers or aunts while boys slept with their older brothers or male relatives.
When outside, the young girl started crying, “Oh Mama, my stomach is aching terribly.”
“Hush my child. We should not disturb the others in their sleep,” said the mum rather too loudly. But the young girl continued crying louder and louder. The signal was well received by the light-sleeping women who together with their daughters woke up to go and relieve themselves outside in the pit latrines, which were lined near the village’s wall. And so they went out with their belongings and met Kolo, Karo and Nyangi who were already outside waiting for them.
Slowly and nervously, the women started their march towards the unknown. Kolo stood by, as she counted to make sure that all were there. All, from the young to the old, were fifty-three in numbers, not a small group. Nyangi was there, the smile and evil glint still there in her eyes. Kolo was relieved, though she could not count on Nyangi at all. Karo double counted the old women who had to be reminded to keep quiet.
The destination was not yet known. It was to be decided by the riverside where the women were to take their first break. Once the women were some comfortable distance from the village, torches were lit.
When they reached the gushing Yando River, they all halted and Kolo told them to gather around her. They all looked scared, as none of them had ever been to the river at such an odd time. Nonetheless, the torches they had gave them some sense of security, as they all knew that wild animals and fire did not get along.
“We have to decide where we are going to set our village. It has to be a place where our men cannot come to attack or disturb us,” Kolo told all who were with her, the reality of leaving the village yet to sink.
Most women had no great knowledge of the forest, as they never got involved in hunting, so they just kept quiet. One old woman spoke and the rest strained to hear what she was saying, “The only place where men cannot reach is the Sacred Mountain next to the Great Hills, Got Agulu. This is a sacred place where no-one ever ventures into at all!”
All kept quiet and their faces showed great fear and extreme doubt. Kolo spoke to dispel their fears. Her voice boomed taking a totally different dimension.

“He flies elegantly looking for a place to comfortably perch. He goes past the raging Yando River, flies higher than the tallest Yago tree, scanning the environment. Then he spots the hills, and squeals excitedly. He flies to the Sacred Mountains and lands on one of the trees. Then slowly and surely he swoops down and parks on a molehill. He scans the area and seems happy to be where he is.”

They all listened as Kolo described her vision, her eyes distant and her thoughts concentrated on the bird. They all knew it now, the trance told it all: Kolo had The Eye, just like her mother before. The powerful eye would guide them. Kolo was the chosen one.
The women were tense and some openly opposed the decision of venturing into the Sacred Mountains. Again it was left to Kolo to convince the superstitious women.

“He sings our victory songs. He beckons us to move. He is waiting. The Sacred Mountains are our only hope.”
Where are those cowards
Where are those beasts
Where are those animals
Where are those who scare my people

The group listened as the song tore into their hearts, seeping effortlessly through their bones. They felt the energy. They felt the heat. They loved the courage and they found themselves singing along, despite not knowing the song.

Step by step we go
We go! We go! We go!
We go to our new home

Step by step we conquer
We conquer! We conquer! We conquer!
We conquer our fears!
We conquer the men!

As they sang along, they felt a peace and tranquillity that was not there before. Their minds were clear: the mountains were going to be their abode. The women took early morning food made of cooked sweet potatoes and arrowroots. They were strong and determined to reach their destination.

To be continued.