From Daughter of the Great River by Khalil Rahman Ali
THE proud Chief Koko, the new great-grandmother, carefully stepped back into the benab, and placed Onida into the specially made hammock beside her mother. The other women sat around the lifeless body of the new mother, and were cautioned by Chief Koko to keep their weeping as silent as possible.
The members of the settlement waited for a few minutes, speaking amongst themselves until Chief Koko reappeared at the top of the stairway.
She said solemnly, “Today, we welcome the start of a new millennium as we are told by the President of Kayana. We do not agree that this is the year 2000 as we know that our world is much older than this. But, we follow the laws of this country which was stolen from our peoples by others who have forced their ways upon us.”
An elderly man, proudly wearing the tribe’s red markings on his forehead and cheeks, along with a single feather of the magnificent Harpy eagle neatly placed and tied at the back of his head of straight grey hair, slowly stood up.
He said, “You are right, O Noble Chief Koko. Let us rejoice at the coming of our future Chief, the beautiful Onida of Kayana.”
Chief Koko said, “This is the moment that our ancestors had told us about. Our Onida is the one who will save us from our present troubles. She must be looked after with care by all of us. She must be fed to grow stronger than our strongest warrior. She must be taught our ways, about our peoples from all over this, our land. She must also be taught the language and ways of our invaders, and she must be listened to, and obeyed.”
The entire gathering raised their arms aloft in unison and in full agreement.
She continued, “But today is also a very sad one for us all. Before we celebrate our Onida, we must now prepare to bury her young mother who gave all of her strength to her baby and lost her own life. Our Onida does not have a father nor a mother, or grandparents, but I shall be her guardian with your support. Now, please go and rest until the early morning, and we will prepare to bless and honour the Great Spirit who has brought us our Onida of Kayana.”
The members of the settlement looked at each other in silence, and quietly turned away towards their houses. Each of the oldest dwellings was made of neatly cut timber frames set out in a circular shape with a floor space enough to accommodate a sleeping area for a family of up to six. The roofs were made of thatch and were shaped in a conical fashion, tightly secured to a central main post at its apex. The timber rafters were also held tightly across from the middle of the cone and were strong enough to support the hammocks used for resting and sleeping. All the newer houses were built with boarded walls and in a square shape, on stilts, as the community made efforts to improve the structures over the last twenty years.
The next morning was lit up by the bright rays of a golden sun, piercing through gaps in the canopy of tall greenheart, purpleheart, and other trees, onto the site of the settlement. Cockerels announced the arrival of the new dawn, and the pet dogs barked their approval. The group of Howler monkeys gathered restlessly amongst the trees, grunting and calling as if in animated conversations. The red and blue macaws, which were tamed by the young boys and girls of the tribe and looked after as pets, stood on their perches near to each house, occasionally squawking in anticipation of their early treats of cut fruits including bananas and oranges. Pigs and piglets, kept by the residents mainly for trading and food when necessary, grunted as they entered the shallow and muddied feeding place set away from the central square.
All members of the tribe decorated their faces and bodies with the red dye or arnotto in preparation for the day-long ceremony of special prayers, chants, and dances. Although most of the residents had been converted to Christianity, and bore such names as Peter, John, and Mary, they insisted on practising their traditional customs and rituals, especially at events such as births, marriages, and deaths.
A small group of men, accompanied by the settlement’s Christian priest and the Indigenous Semechi or Piaiman, solemnly walked in a single file to a selected spot in the cemetery, preserved for members of Chief Koko’s family of leaders. The area of the cemetery was marked out and bordered by tall bamboo trees which swayed gently in the soft wind. Deeper into the cemetery was a high grassy mound where multiple burials had taken place for the victims of outbreaks such as smallpox. Normally, if and when such mass deaths occurred, an Indigenous tribe would quickly bury their dead and move away to another site. But this settlement was of far more significance for the people who had promised their Chiefs to stay until their sacred Kayana was freed of all invaders.
The ritual of chanting and dancing continued as the body of Onida’s mother was placed in a simple woven open coffin and gently lowered into the grave. Final prayers by both priests signalled the end of the ceremony, and after the burial, some bamboo leaves and flowers were placed upon the grave.
The burial party returned to the square in front of the benab and sat down in a circle to participate in a grand feast of roast pork, cassava bread, boiled carrots, potatoes, and ample quantities of the piwari drink used to soothe their grief and to rejoice at the coming of Onida.
The people had been hardened by numerous incidents of great loss and suffering in the past. But now, they had every reason to accept the passing of the young mother and to celebrate the happiness brought by the birth of Onida.
Within only two hours of such great joy, their peace was shattered by the unmistakable crackle of rapid gunfire.
