Jana

CHAPTER ONE Once upon a moon, in the land of the Meru in Eastern Africa, a long awaited child was born. This was sometime after the rains and just before the harvest. With a loud triumphant cry the baby took her first breathe. Her mother's face glimmered from beads of sweat; she cried and laughed, all at the same time. In fact, all who were in the room had mixed emotions, all except the little messenger girl. Hidden in the shadow of the older women she was all smiles and played pranks on the younger girl who had never helped before and was as terrified as she was excited. The second the midwife whispered the news, the head girl dashed out screaming at the top of her lungs, the other girl followed. "Sound the drums, the queen has a child!" "Sing praises to Mwaga Meru, the King has a child!" "Rejoice and give thanks, peace and prosperity has come to the land!" "Rejoice all, baby Jana has been born!" It was late in the night, the moon full and bright. Her voice rose above the crickets' songs. It awakened the waiting drummers, the other messengers, and the whole village. This message was long awaited and the anxiety so caused loomed well beyond the Meru lands. All over the Serengeti plains and beyond, near and far, many awaited this news. On her call, the night awoke. Drumming and singing, thumping feet and jingling bells, rattling shakers and rhythmic claps. Miles and miles away the news was celebrated; the birth of the child, a child of peace, Jana. Yes indeed, a special child. For she marked the end of 'yesterday', the end of the drought, hunger and blood shed. Her birth would calm the raging anger of Chief Ndosi and appease the mountain god Mwaga Meru. During the droughts when Ndosi, the Meru chief had conquered all the lands below the great mountains, it had been rumored that he had offered great sacrifice to the /[mountain god who in turn gave strength to the Meru warriors and they became victorious in battle. They said the chief was mad because he had no children. The chief would not hear ideal talk, he knew his cause and he said it to all people allies and foe. " we as you need food and water, this is why we fight… Kwaajili ya wanawake na watoto ( for the women and children)" he said. Yet, the invasions seized when he got news from the queen. ", Mwaga ametujibu basi shukuru ( god has answered us lets give thanks)". The leather patch said.But still, it was at that same time that the first rain drops fell. A great celebration was called. It was set to be merry and joy for seven days, festivities to last a week. "…kwaajili ya kutafuta amani na majirani… ( to seek peace with our neighbours) the council of six had advised the Chief and he in turn had agreed. The six passed it to the twelve and they passed it to the rest. So the word spread. Over the hills and down in the valleys, across the plains and to every farmer and potter, mats and basket weavers, black smiths and soldiers, squad leaders and their generals, even the hunters got the word. It was said to all the tribes and translated to all languages. "There is great celebration in Meru land. In honor of his newly born, Ndosi is holding appease ceremony with all the tribes". In fear of his power, they would call each other aside and whisper, "… but the harvest is not yet!" The medicine men knew it, they knew it before. They were not happy, the King had many enemies. In the Spirit world, they were able to protect him, but only as long as he followed the tradition, the norms and customs. So it went, while preparations went on, deep inside mount Meru a conference was in progress. "…this is dangerous for all of us, he has gone too far!" Ole Saitioti medicine man of the Maasai was saying in a high pitched voice all the while flickering his cow tail fly swatter across his face in sheer reflex, there were no flies. "But he only seeks peace!" Nkoo said firmly, with a tingle of frustration in her voice. "Lies!" Mchagga interjected loudly. "He favors himself a god!" Mchagga's sidekick spoke up then turned his face aside, a show of spite. "That…is …of your kind, you…you cursed being!" Nanyaro stammered getting up and waving his crooked staff. His outburst provoked a general disorder and for a short while pandemonium followed. The noise was deafening and chaotic. A mixture of shrills and shrieks, words and dialect, banging and clanging. Then suddenly with the Flower and Color spell, a powerful sorcerer silenced them all. They moved their lips but not a sound came out. He stood in dark corner and waited for little while before showing himself. In his palm he held a small black clothe wrapped around a red petal. Even those who knew the counter spell could not use it. No, not in those deep dark secrete chambers of the mountain. The counter spell only worked in the light. When it was all silent, from a dark corner, Mchawi, the medicine man from the west spoke. "Lets not beat about the bush; we all know the law eeh?" "Hakuna sherehe kabla ya mavuno… (no mass celebrations before the harvests)… mgrh!" He shrieked. His tattered white turned grey cloak floated about him. It lashed about violently, as though caught in the wind, yet, the air was calm. His head was cone shaped and unusually long, all bald but for a tuft of long grey hair that grew just above his ears. He glided forward from his shadowy position, a few feet into the lighter zone and then stopped and hovered. He raised his hairy eye brows and glared nothing but fury in his eyes. His skin was creased and his cheek bones seemed to poke out. He had no beard, just a long chin that curved upwards. He scuffled and looked around the enormous gathering room; he knew every creature in there. Those in sight and those invisible, slaves and those free, beasts of the dark and their lords. "This assembly knows it…. (Sniffles)… the high ranks know it, spirits and you… (He pointed his staff at a group in a dark corner). "…you medicine men , know this". Then he looked around and down and added. "Even the cursed jinns and enslaved beasts know it…" He let the petal drop and the spell break.