Still Sings the Nightbird

Wise and beautiful

225 W Wise and beautiful abi thought she sensed relief sometimes between Wam’s little smiles, but that was once every so many years when they would meet. It is true that much healing is done through sharing words. Wam spoke little. She did not write. She was often in a church and quiet. Little Malaika and her sister Nakupenda had a lovely black complexion. Not shiny but it enhanced the white of their eyes wonderfully. Nakupenda seemed thinner in appearance and therefore slightly taller. Both girls had charming faces. Malaika’s was enchanting with a half cheeky smile. Kabi habitually remembered the day she met two girls, Malaika and Nakupenda, in the Kenyalini Village’s open area. Sayari an old friend of hers had begged her to take her there. “Do you have something for us too?” Malaika asked. “I’ve only got things for boys and men today, all of them from my family,” replied Kabi. “Well, we have brother and father too,” said Malaika. “We will take them to them.” Kabi and Sayari were afraid. They thought their items would be grabbed by two boys who were watching. They stood on the other side of the path. Would the girls be safe? How could Kabi and Sayari dare drop their eyes to open up the bundles? The boys notice their hesitation. They come up to them. They greet the women and leave. Nakupenda and Malaika follow the ‘visitors’ to the hall. At the entrance they are sent away by a watchman. Sista Jiru is busy inside. Sayari and Kabi give out the clothes. Kabi kept two T-shirts and two pairs of shorts with her. She hoped to find Nakupenda and Malaika on her way out. She did. “We got a beating!” The two girls said. It was frightening. It was the watchman who beat them. They did not complain to Sista Jiru because that is what the Math teacher used K 226 to do when they failed tests. That is what the teacher on duty used to do too when they arrived a minute late. A beating on the behind. A minute late after fetching dark water from River KƭrNJirNJ in the morning. A beating on the palms of the hand. “No! but that is unfair!” said Kabi “Time to say: No!” said Kabi and Sayari in one breath. “Here you are. Girls can wear these to cover their backs and to look good!” added Kabi Hardly had she held out her hands than the two girls simultaneously said, “asante!’ and instantaneously grabbed a T-shirt and shorts each and then ran in the same direction like a high wind. The girl’s pace was the same. The visitors gazed in astonishment as they went up and down little mounds at top speed. They disappeared from sight. They and all the little children standing around could still hear the girls’ ‘asante!’ said in unison ringing in their ears. Kabi and Sayari walked back and told the watchman off. They spoke to him without humiliation but the message was not coded. Looking back, Kabi and the visitor saw the two boys catching up with them. This time they walked confidently right up to them. “We have come to say ‘thank you’ and to explain to you why the girls ran off,” One said. “We’re very grateful. May God help and guide you. They were just afraid that the others would take their gifts from them and so they run off to hide them. That’s all.” The other boy took over. “Our sisters look wonderful in shorts. They are a little shy but they will soon be out to play. Look, they are coming… We shall go back and meet them.” Kabi and Sayari parted ways and each went home. Kabi went round the neighborhood and spoke to many asking for donations for the families in trouble that night. She visited Malaika and Nakupenda’s family many more times. Their mother said to her, “This is a real Kirithmathi for us. It is as if our girls met the wise men – no, wise women visiting Kenyalini Village.” 227 Many saw Kenyalini Village’s suffering in the same way one watches a football match knowing full well there will be winners and losers. But not Kabi. For Kabi, Kenyalini Village’s pain was engraved on her mind and soul forever. Compassion, feeling with...