The Words Of Ndithi, The Ancestor Of The Luo

Register to read the introduction… “Podho, the ancestor of the Luo, appeared to me in a dream last night, and he asked me to speak to the chief and the people,” Ndithi had said to the gathering of tribesmen. “A young woman who has not known a man must die so that the country may have rain. While Podho was still talking to me, I saw a young woman standing at the lakeside, her hands raised, above her head. Her skin was as fair as the skin of a young deer in the wilderness. Her tall slender figure stood as a lonely reed at the river bank. Her sleepy eyes wore a sad look like that of a bereaved mother. She wore a gold ring on her left ear, and a glittering brass chain around her waist. As I still marveled at the beauty of this young woman, Podho told me, ‘Out of all the women in this land, we have chosen this one. Let her offer herself a sacrifice to the lake monster! And on that day, the rain will come down in torrents. Let everyone stay at home on that day, lest he be carried away by the floods.’” Outside there was a strange stillness, except for the thirsty birds that sang lazily on the dying trees. The blinding mid-day heat had forced the people to retire to their huts. Not far away from the chief’s hut, tow guards were snoring away quietly. Labong’o removed his crown and the large eagle-head that hung loosely on his shoulders. He left the hut, and instead of asking Nyabog’o the messenger to beat the drum, he went straight and beat it …show more content…
They were coming to the hut now, each carrying a gift to put at Oganda’s feet. As their singing got nearer Oganda was able to hear what they were saying: “It is to save the people, if it is to give us rain, let Oganda go. Let Oganda die for her people, and for her ancestors,” Was she mad to think that they were singing about her? Ho could she die? She found the lean figure of her grandmother barring the door. She could not get out. The look on her grandmother’s face warned her that there was danger around the corner. “Mother, it is not marriage then?” Oganda asked urgently. She suddenly felt panicky like a mouse cornered by a hungry cat. Forgetting that there was only one door in the hut Oganda fought desperately to find another exit. She must fight for her life. But there was none. She closed her eyes, leapt like a wild tiger through the door, knocking her grandmother flat to the ground. There outside in mourning garments Labong’o stood motionless, his hands folded at the back. He held his daughter’s hand and led her away from the excited crowd to the little red-painted hut where her mother was resting. Here he broke the news officially to his