Saturday, April 30, 2022

 

AGREED

 

A short story by D. R. Ruhweza

 




'He has agreed to forgive!' Maimuna screamed. Her voice was followed by the sound of small feet tumbling over each other. Heaving and panting heavily, she burst into the smoke filled kitchen, 'they..' she caught her breath before continuing '… they have agreed' she reported. 'He has said he is sorry.'

 

'What? really?' Mukaka asked while jumping off her three-legged worn out stool. She picked up her nkoni, a walking stick and slowly yet steadily willed old bones out of the kitchen. In her time, no child or woman was allowed to be seen or heard near the rukurato meeting of elders. 'Yes' Maimuna continued, 'Mugwisa said he was sorry and agreed to pay compensation.' Tears of joy filled Mukaka's eyes as from a distance, she could see her middle-aged son kneeling before his grey haired balding father in a strong embrace.

 

Seated upon a bulging root of the old Mvule tree, Matama sat wiping her tears away in time to accept the strong squeeze on her shoulder from Mukaka her mother in law. Matama had been at the centre of a long and terrible feud between her husband and his father. Mugwisa had just returned from self-imposed exile from the nearby Humura village. He had done the dastardly deed of impregnating his father's concubine. As was required by the custom of the village, Mugurusi had disowned his son and disinherited him. The Village elders had concurred with the old man and forbidden his son from ever returning to the village. Matama had spent the last two years struggling to make peace between her fugitive husband and his ailing father.  The old man's heart bled for his only son and yet at the same time burnt with anger at the way he had been betrayed. Mukaka had become to old to warm Mugurusi's bed. A young woman had therefore been sought to tend to his diminishing body.

 

Matama was not a beautiful girl but she had the voice of an angel. She was also blessed with green fingers because all that she planted flourished. Unable to produce any more children due to a problematic pregnancy that left her womb-less. She had resigned to the fact that her husband would seek other women in order to sire a son.  Mugwisa had found the body of his father's concubine irresistible. However, an ectopic pregnancy with fatal results to mother and child had led to the old man's renewed life of solitude. Unable to forgive his son, Mugu, as his granddaughter Maimuna called him, had become a bitter and solitary figure.

 

In her husband's absence, the cunning work of Matama had began. She weaved her way into the old man's heart in spite of her own pain, suffered at having been betrayed by her childhood love. For months, Matama had borne the brunt of venomous abuse her father-in-law harboured for his son. Encouraged by Mukaka, she had appealed on her husband's behalf. 'You need him here to keep your bloodline running Mugurusi' she cajoled. 'Punish him but call him back', she had pleaded. ‘Without him I am nothing, you are nothing, Maimuna is nothing.' she had cried.

 

The old man had over the weeks softened his stance. The kindly voice of his daughter in law had cracked away at his ill temper and pain. He had raised his tired hands at last and sent for his son. 'You are a good woman, Mugurusi had said before meeting his son in the presence of the elders. 'A good woman' he had muttered again.

 

 

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