All Chapters of The Long-lasting Tree : Chapter 11 - Chapter 16

    He stood by the window watching the sun sink into the occident. The yellow flickers coruscated his face giving it a new form of brightness. He liked the rays because of their yellow brightness, though he knew darkness would soon eat up the clear atmosphere and his dazzling face would soon be dark and fading. He would be parting ways with the sun. He gazed at it and the signs of a fading beauty, beauty that had once struck his heart crept into his mind. In the sulky long night, he would neither see nor hear of it again. He felt rancorous with darkness - it would separate him from what he loved dearly. But he knew that even on that day when thick darkness would come upon him and cover his soul, body and spirit, the sun would continue to shine. And that was all he wanted, that the sun may continue to shine upon his people.     He was still looking at the sun when Nyarari came over and stood beside him. She was in the nerves but pretended to be watchi

    It was approaching dusk yet the sky remained as clear as crystal. The land lay stiff and barren - no edible plants and animals, no grains, and many were the lives she had swallowed. She looked like a ravenous giantess craving for any living prey. She wanted to devour as many living creatures as she could. On her belly rested the ailing countryside, as quiet as if nobody lived in it.     The four and other three men were now moving towards River Awach. The family had alighted from the wagons at Wang'-arot and luckily found three men loafing about who offered to help with carrying the heavy sacks of food. The Blue-eyed had constructed a murram road from Kisumu to Usenge, but the paths leading to the river off the main road, through the forests, were narrow and could not be used by wagon-riders. Even so, the family objected using the Gem route fearing they might be attacked by a gang, and so the riders had to leave them at the Wang'arot junction.

       It was an all-merry ground at the Osayos. At one side of the homestead, young women dressed in owelo (traditonal dancing skirts made of sisal) and tops made of banana leaves harmoniously sang dudu (a native folksong sung by women) in the accompaniment of nyatiti, orutu and other traditional instruments. At the other side, young men cavorted about performing Ohangla and other native music.        When the much-awaited guests arrived, all the people made welkin rings and ululations as they rushed to meet and welcome them home. The women carried their bride and the men their bridegroom and moved about bestowing laudits on them. Some older men too gambolled about making utterances of praise in the native spoken word format called sigiya.        After the shoutings had died down, young men performed the traditional Sikwomba and Ohangla dances. Afterward, women lined up themselves in front of Agola'

       Okech squatted down to the flowing water to fill his barrel. He was now seventeen seasons old, tall and mascular and already initiated into adulthood, and possessed with decade-old momories of his family. He missed the company of his siblings and parents. For a moment, his eyes shifted onto the scar on his left leg, the only relic of his childhood life.        His mind toured the past. He remembered the dreadful scene at the river - how the Blue-eyed pointed at and shot him with a strange item, an item that sparked fire. The wound had taken time to heal and the huge scar left marked a page in his life that had not yet been closed. Were his brothers and friends back in Seme safe? And his insane father? What about his mother who had left only months after their father turned mad? Would he ever meet them again?       As he though about these, he forgot himself and the barrel he was holding onto the wa

       Okayo stole glances at the wooden sofa sets, large stools, and floral decorations inside Omolo's house. He wondered where it all came from. They were a rare thing in the countryside. He could now almost conclude that there was an immeasurable amount of wealth in the church. It was not his first time witnessing such a glamorous setting in the house of a clergy; he had seen it in Pastor Ken's house back in Kisumu Town. He thought about it for a moment. Was the church an effectual money-minting organisation camouflaging as a free solace workshop? Why were the clergy leading lavish lifestyles while their followers begged and toiled hard for bread like mendicants?        "I liked the sermon," Nyarari interrupted his thoughts. "Did you?" He did not reply immediately. "Did you like it, Johnny?" reiterated Nyarari.        "I don't know. I was just thinking about something else when you interrupted."

Chapter 16      Otieno and Okayo walked into Ogola's hut. They had received word that the old man wanted to see them. They found him telling stories with Odalo and would have excused themselves to return later, but Ogola stopped them, "Have your seats, boys. We have grave matters to moot."      They shook hands with the old men and sat.      "I have heard that the witch has been found," began Odalo. "But that she disappeared again. Why is it taking you too long to find her?"       "Allow me to ask, jaduong', how have you known that she is a witch."      "The manner in which she disappeared is allegoric to the one in the prophetic myth," explained Odalo. "I'm told she flew from one end of the roof to other like a bewildered botfly before she headed for the exit and disappeared." All the others broke into laughter      "Whoever told you that is the g