Abandoning our ancestral ways eventually leads to our down fall.

It was while working at the Kenya Power and Lighting Company that Buda once invited me to join him on a journey to visit a medicine man, an inyanga (healer), in Tanzania. This troubled me at first, as I did not really believe in inyangas who asked for money as this one did. I knew that only one’s faith had the potential to heal any troubled soul. After all, I had been exposed to the use of herbs that always worked for me, these were things to which I had become accustomed.

In my years I had seen some of the most sincere inyangas, healers that had never asked money as payment. They left it to one’s decision and appreciation of the weight of the problem that one was experiencing as well as the result of the inyanga’s intervention.

The logic here was not a monetary one, it centered around a deep and mutual respect for life. Those consulting and the healer understood the importance in this interaction and exchange, what was at stake here was life itself. As far as payment was concerned the arrangement was a much more organic one, it was a case of life for life. Payment was made through animals, seeds, and such things, all with the power of life. Money has changed this, and necessarily so, as it is a lifeless, even empty, thing that assigns an arbitrarily defined value on all things, food, health, and even life.

Buda, in taking this decision went completely against the social grain. He had no right, even as the first born, to consult an inyanga on behalf of his family without first having conferred with the elders and family members, receiving their blessing. The fact that Buda had taken this upon himself was the beginning of a downward spiral. It would be said later that he, his choices and their results, had brought about the troubles that would befall his house.

Yet this was a step that did not just happen, it was one link in a long chain. He had been suffering for some time. It is likely that he had consulted, in private, a chosen few in a way he believed to be for the best, even if this was to the exclusion of his family, the ones who mattered most. His mind had settled on an inyanga as the solution to his problems.

The choice was an expensive one that only added to his belief in the potential for healing – the logic that says the more money the more effective the service. The fact that the consultation was to happen in a different country, in a place of things strange and foreign, meant that it had to work. That Buda did not make this decision inside of family was really a sign that this was a man’s last-ditch attempt to have things put right. Many people the world over, in their desperation, fall into traps such as these – the promise of something being more alluring than the hard choices we know will bring us to ease.

Buda and I were partners at the time in Nairobi in a tailoring business making women’s petticoats. I was by then supporting the schooling of my two sisters as well as Queen in her small venture making and selling chapattis. My choice to make the trip to Tanzania though was mostly out of my nomadic sense and nature, it presented me with the chance for adventure. This was despite all the responsibilities I had shouldered. Buda was my friend and I wanted to support him, I had also never been to Tanzania, the land of Julius Nyerere’s ujamaa (family hood), and there was a yearning to see the country and life of its people.

Buda had many genuine reasons to visit the inyanga. He was experiencing difficulties at work, the family was slowly moving apart as every one had embarked on an individual, maybe even capitalistic, journey dictated by the economic difficulties of the time. His sister, who he had helped procure an abortion so she could be admitted to a college, was not living up to his expectations. Buda also felt the need to thank the gods for whatever they had made him to be.

One thing, more than the rest, convinced and propelled him towards Tanzania was the sickness of his loving mother, Dana Dom, whom he brought along despite her staunch Christian leaning. The pair had come a long way together and they had a bond that was not equaled by any other. I believe that the umbilical cord takes a long time to be cut and to tell the truth, Buda and the mother’s cord was still fresh and strong.

I remember one day intervening to ask him to accept back his wife, Lizzy, to come home after the Queen had a quarrel with Buda’s mother. He had been quick to jump to his mother’s defence and may even have gone to the point of telling his wife to leave his house, such was their bond. Life had thrown them together and there was nothing he would not do for Dana Dom.

Oduo also travelled with his father and grandmother and was happy to visit the home of the inyanga in Musoma. Near the shores of Lake Victoria in the north of Tanzania, Musoma is a flat area. It was the middle of the dry season and the days were hot and dusty. Most of the houses in the village were built in the traditional style of woven grass and mud. The homestead of the healer was larger than the others. There were many huts, housing his numerous wives and children. The yards were clean and dotted with big trees under which people would sit in the heat of the day or before being called for consultation.

The whole thing was exciting for Oduo. What was even better was the fact that he was assigned a young woman to accompany him at night to serve and see to his needs. What a saving of time, having personally experienced the challenges of a relationship. Oduo saw this young lady as his partner but there was none of the other needs and demands of a formal relationship, it was carefree, comfortable companionship.

Traditionally, this was a young woman who was not able to have children and who would be assigned to male visitors as part of the healing – if she were to conceive then the inyanga’s treatment would be shown to be effective. Perhaps this happened once and now this treatment had become a healing myth that was easily accepted. Interesting that, during a time when parents and elders arranged marriages, this custom prevailed meaning that a lot of problems were averted. Male visitors were obviously directed, peacefully, not to behave unfittingly in the host village. Even God choose a woman for Adam, the first man according to the bible. This was Oduo’s early experience of another culture’s way of welcoming a visitor and making one feel at home and loved. He was eighteen years old, had just finished school and was just beginning to find his own way in the world.

For three days mother, son and grandson prepared and performed the necessary cleansing rituals to the satisfaction of the inyanga’s spirits before getting the opportunity to finally see him. During one of the first visits to the healer Oduo had a disagreement with the man, Buda and Dana Dom.  He had already decided that this inyanga was not sincere, that his abilities were as fickle as the paper money he was chasing. A challenge was put to the inyanga – he was asked to predict where a fly would next land before Oduo could believe in or trust his capability to see the future. The inyanga, sensing the seriousness of this young man, the potential risk of loosing his moneyed customers, went along and unfortunately missed the target. This led to the expulsion of Oduo from the inyanga’s compound.

Oduo had hoped that by challenging the inyanga his father might wake up to what Oduo felt was a sham. He did this despite the danger of being seen as a rebel and even coming to be cast as the one who spoiled the affectivity of the consultation. He opened himself up to a risky position, being used as a scapegoat. If Oduo could not bring his father around then he hoped, at least, to win his freedom from the proceedings so that he could explore and enjoy the newness of the environment he was now in.

Being expelled was a blessing, it signaled the beginning of further adventures. It was unfortunate that Oduo’s action did not go well with Buda and, more so, Dana Dom who concluded that Oduo was demon-possessed. Rather than side with her grandson she chose the inyanga out of the fear of his perceived status in society. It was bit like the parable of the Emperor’s new clothes.

The inyanga was an older man, maybe in his fifties, who had come to be exposed to money and he had quickly learnt ways of accessing it. This was a good marketer, Buda had even heard about him across the border. His head was shaved bald and he wore old clothes, a skirt. During the consultation though he painted his face and body and donned many bracelets and necklaces of shell and bone choosing also to go bare-chested with just a loincloth covering his privates. Around the grass consultation hut were scattered skulls and bones. Inside there were many skins and horns, cages of live birds, pieces of bone and many plants that were part of his remedies. In this setting the inyanga had a menacing appearance, scary even, and against this backdrop, his stage, he really came to life but Oduo had seen him before and so was not convinced by the act.

Oduo’s fall from grace was helped by the healer’s conviction. He had managed to turn Buda and Dana Dom to his side, despite failing to live up to the challenge. It was a blow to Oduo who had now lost the trust and confidence of his elders. As a last resort he had threatened to let his mother know what had happened. This was a journey undertaken in secret as the cost would bring more friction in the family. Queen, like her son, never believed that one could pay to be assisted or treated in the traditional way.

The threat was too much for Buda who was now in a corner. This tension gave Oduo power and the immunity, which was his intention from the very beginning, to explore, learn and interact with the locals. This he did in his own unique, free spirited way, further motivated by the fact that nothing was expected of him now. To his father and Dana Dom, he was a demon-possessed fellow, judged mad. Oduo loved his new found status, he could do anything! In the kingdom of the blind the one eyed man, or in this case the madman, is king. This is very often the fate of the minority, in being judged to be outside of the rules and norms these rules and norms no longer apply, this person is freed.

For the week of the consultation, Oduo became a dancer. He would go from village to village dancing to an old gramophone, an instrument he had never seen before in his life. His youth encountered a blend of tradition and modernity. Oduo was open to this diversity and he drank deeply of it making friends, learning new ways and having experiences that further opened his understanding. Oduo was free in the way he had always wanted, to make his own choices and live happily with the results.

Such was his joy and abandon that he was even given a tortoise as a gift at the home of Owino Misiani. This musician was a wise son of the land. He was an elder that talked his mind and walked his journey through music. Misiani is known as the “Grandfather of Benga”, a popular genre in East Africa. In the 60s and 70s the Tanzanian musician sang about issues facing the region which led him to be taken by the authorities as oppositional, earning him several prison visits.

The house stood out in its surrounds, it was brick, mortar, and tiles, against the backdrop of the mud and grass dwellings of his home. His was one of many voices that refused to be silenced and so he invited and endured separation from his home, his family, and his traditional way of life while in exile in Kenya. Looking back I feel an affinity with him as I myself would be forced into exile for my beliefs, for not belonging or following the mainstream, for not towing the line.

Oduo went home with this tortoise, a creature whose unspoken intelligence he loved and appreciated. It reminded him of the creator’s boundless wisdom when putting the spark to life. The tortoise is intelligent and patient, a brave creature not to be thought of as a possession. Traditionally they have been portrayed as ignorant and slow which has made them easily abused. Their lives are not valued and yet they are a creature that survives. Slow but steady as the saying goes, always arriving at the intended goal despite the obstacles. Oduo really took this as a great gift.

This enjoyment continued and on the day they were to return, Oduo left early, in a sulk, saying goodbye slowly while the rest prepared for the bus. He went directly to Nairobi, a Maa word for ‘place of swampy water’, alone. Nairobi was an ancestral home. Oduo’s great grandfather had lived there until he was pushed out in 1904 after witnessing the killing and extermination of the elders there under the Anglo-Maasai Agreement.

Buda and his mother returned to Ugolwe some time after Oduo’s departure, still in a bad mood with him. They brought with them a man who was an aid to the inyanga and who was tasked with performing a series of cleansing rituals in the home of Dana Dom in Ugolwe. This was an unwise and risky course of action according to some elders in the chang’aa (a traditional brew) drinking dens. They believed, and still think, that Dana Dom and her son did not have the right to undertake such a powerful ritual in the absence of the elders and other siblings. Dana Dom was a widow and Buda had not even built his own home according to the traditions and culture of his people and ancestors. The saying goes: Only a man knows the secrets of his own home.

These things I learned while visiting Buda, things which were among the main reasons given for the later problems and demise of the Nyayiekka family. How could Buda know what was good for a home when he had not had his own mudzi, boma or dala (house or homestead) as they called it? How could he know what rituals his father, another man, and the only son of Buda’s grandfather, had performed in the protection of his home. Buda had not consulted those senior to him and doing so can have very real consequences. His actions had placed him in an ancestral role, something that was wrong in the strongest way. I understood all this having come from a culture where even shaking the hands of an elder is a privilege. You cannot measure your matanye (buttocks) with your elder’s – you just don’t sit on a chair that an elder sits on.

Oduo believed that this traditional way is perfect, to him it is about the total respect of another and the whole of life. What is true though is that no one can be forced to respect the next, it is a basic understanding dependant on each individual. From these traditions he knew this was natural and well understood by all, stemming from cohesive communities, family values and how children learned this in the way they were brought up. Every one was a stakeholder and responsible for the direction taken by the community, each individual’s role was important as the next.

I agree that this is a beautiful tradition that promotes peace and unity in society. Lack of respect is lack of ubuntu, utu (humanness), a way of being that is the foundation of true native human community. Absence of utu leads to competition, greed, malice, and even violence. Inside of this knowledge I have always maintained that the native minority peoples have a great potential gift of learning to humanity, even as the ones most often abused or scorned. These ancient ways have the possibility of showing us all a wisdom that may set us as humanity, in all our magnificent diversity, on a path towards a collective way.