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5 Chapter 2 Birth and Childhood My mother, Ngianaeli Ngekalio Mtei (née Mlyingi), became a widow when her husband, Victor Shambari Mtei died in 1928. She was then only 32 years old and had been left with two children, Ismael and Cecilia to look after. She resolved that she would not re-marry and that she would continue to try, as best she could, to raise her two children. Indeed, in accordance with Chagga customs and tradition, a widow with a son was rarely re-married, especially if the son had inherited land (kihamba) adequate to live on. And it happened that Ismael had inherited from his father ample land on the basis of standards of Marangu in those days. EliapendaNgapanyiMtei,ayoungercousinofVictorShambari, lived in the adjoining kihamba, and was sympathetic, kind and helpful to the young widow; in contrast to the surviving brothers of Victor, who would have inherited his properties had he died without leaving a son. The inheriting of widows under Chagga custom is not automatic as in many other tribes. Even in those days, a widow had to be willing and consent to be considered as a wife of a surviving brother of her deceased husband. Indeed, at this time my mother suspected that one of these brothers of her late husband was planning to harm her son, and so for a long time, she arranged for Ismael to live at our maternal grandfather’s home. I was born on 12 July 1932 in a rather dramatic manner, my father being Eliapenda Ngapanyi Mtei: My mother had planted maize and beans in a plot of land located at Rawuya, about eight kilometres away from where she lived in central Marangu. July was the harvest month for beans and she had started harvesting early, anxious to finish this task as soon as possible because she knew she was heavy with child. Early in the morning of 12 July, accompanied by her neighbour, Ndeambiliasia, who was also harvesting beans in an adjoining plot at Rawuya, she walked those eight kilometres to continue with her task. They arrived at their destination and were each working in their respective shamba whenlaterthatmorningmymothershoutedforherfriendtocome for help. She was in labour! I was safely born soon afterwards in 6 that field of beans and maize; and late that afternoon, my mother slowly walked back home with Ndeambiliasia assisting to carry me. So in that humble but unusual way, I began an exciting life. Although my father knew I was his son and continued to assist materially, my mother initially adamantly refused to reveal my father’s identity. Eliapenda had been baptised into the Lutheran Church in 1929, and early in 1932 had married Lucia Mawolle in a solemn Christian wedding ceremony, which was well publicised. The strict German missionaries who ran the Lutheran Church at the time, would immediately have excommunicated Eliapenda and nullified his marriage with Lucia had it become known that at the time of his wedding, he had already sired a child with his cousin’s widow. So I continued to live with my mother and my half-brother and sister, Ismael and Cecilia. At that time I was in fact referred to as the son of Victor, until my father was excommunicated from the Church for reasons quite unrelated to my being his son. The reason for this action by the Church authorities was that in 1940 Eliapenda formally and openly took a second wife, by the name of Kichacha, under Chagga customary law, because he had realised that Lucia could not bear him a child. The consummation of a marriage, in accordance with Chagga customs and tradition, is the birth of a child; and the Marangu community fully appreciated Eliapenda’s decision regarding a second wife, in spite of the rules of the Church. My mother initially gave me the name ‘Kilasara’, which in the local language denotes defiance, implying that she would not worry or be frightened despite the many problems which normally confronted a widow in the tribal environment. However, following a serious illness when I was three years old, my mother realised she had to look for doctors and my cure on her own; so she decided to change my name to ‘Mbiliewi’, meaning ‘with whom shall I consult?’ As I grew up, people who had known me as ‘Kilasara’ continued to call me by that name, and others called me ‘Mbiliewi’ in accordance with my mother’s wish. However, when I was about six years...

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