TALES OF AFRICA.

THE AGONY.

A few miles from home, a faint voice was heard calling out for help. Oluoch never hesitated attending to the scene. And there laid Jael, tired and helpless. Oluoch, who was already fourteen years old, ran home for Oyoo's ox driven cart to carry his sister, who was already unconscious. These were the times the clan members were needed by these helpless kids, but they showed them their back. Oluoch, who was confused beyond explanation, drove his sister home, and it's by then that he discovered a wound on his sister's tendon. "gods of my forefathers,why me?"Oluoch wailed.A moment later,his sister could be heard asking for water to drink. Oluoch rushed towards a pot in the kitchen and drew a cup of water for Jael. While he was striding back to the kitchen, his sister beckoned him, but this time round, she seemed to be weaker. Oluoch knelt down to hear what the sister wanted to tell him.

"The spirit of 'Were,(God)' will always be with you, my brother. You must live to tell the story of our father, who was a great farmer. Remember,the continuity of our lineage is in your hands. The rise of new Oyoo's family is now. Arise and shine, death can reign on us but can't conquer us. To Betty, tell her that I am off the land of the living", those were the bitter words of Jael in the form of bidding goodbye to her brother. The venom she contacted through a snake bite was so poisonous that she couldn't survive. Jael died at the age of twenty-two years. Poor Oluoch had to message Betty that their sister was no more. What a pity that this family knows, not the meaning of happiness. They have lived lamenting every single moment of their lives. Death stroked the family, and it reached a point where this homestead next to the road was named "kaburini," meaning cemetery.It was believed that this family suffered because they were under a cur Oloo couldn't imagine losing his sister in such a mysterious way. Luckily, through a messenger, the message on what befell her family reached Becky. She had no otherwise but to share the saddening message to her in-laws and husband. This time round, the reaction they gave was so horrifying that Becky never believed how she actually came to be a daughter-in-law in that family. "If by any chance you step your feet into that land you call your father's, bear in mind that you will never have peace of mind for I will make sure that you don't step back into my compound. Furthermore, you will live a miserable life that only death will save you from it, "said Becky's father-in-law. "And missery will forever follow your lineage for as long as I live. You will not be able to raise a child to call your own. You will lose your sight by my power, and you will stammer till death,"complemented her mother-in-law.

Becky had no otherwise but to stay put failing to attend her sister's burial. With thoughts going round her mind, Becky decided to defy the commands and sneaked to attend Jael's burial.It was a surprise to Oloo, who stood agaze at her sister. He hugged her while tears rolled down their cheeks. Oluoch led her sister to where Jael's body was laid.

The traditional burial rituals were performed before the body was laid to the final rest. There was the day when Jael's body was buried with great honour and love. I sometimes love it when I enjoy the fruits of diplomacy, which were never there by then. Jael's buria marked the beginning of Becky's suffering. Three days after the ceremony, Becky decided to go face the consequences of defying her father-in-law's command. The journey was long and tiresome with neither food nor drink. That was just but a little part of the wrath she was to face. Despite the long journey, no one was willing to give her even a drop of water to at least quench her thist. They, however, mocked and called her all sorts of names. The punishment given to her was horrible that at the end of the day, she collapsed.

No one showed concern, and Becky was down for more than half an hour. On gaining her consciousness, she dragged herself slowly into her house. Becky laid in her room beseeching "Were" to deliver her from the burden and the challenges she faced."gods of our land, why me? gods of my forefathers,why are you forsaking me at this time? I dearly need you. I wish to join my ancestors so that you may render peace in eternity. Take me to be with you, for I have no purpose to serve in life."Those were the bitter statements of "the ready to meet her maker" Becky. This made me believe that there is power in every word we speak out of our mouths. At dawn ululations to announce Becky's death were heard in every corner of the village. Becky's wish seemed to had been granted and that marked the end of her existence. The mentally maimed husband was left a widower with no kid to call theirs,what a shock! It was a mystery that no villager was willing to even come glance at the body. The in-laws were shocked since this was not their expectation. To the villagers, they considered this a lesson to the two who were known for witchcraft.

Do good be good had not been their vocabulary but this time round, they had to plead with the villagers to help them run the ritual process. Non of the familly members was left unshaved. Grave was dug and with no delay, the body was laid to rest. After the burial, there was a mysterious incident when one morning, the mother-in-law on waking up saw the sunken grave of Becky and was shocked to death, marking the end of her existence. This was a true manifestation that "he who lives by a sword,surely dies by the same sword."

It was so unfortunate since Oluoch knew not that the only sister he could count on as the only remaining relative of his was no more. The homestead was fully left for him and with no one to talk to. Desperacy befell him and thought going across his mind on how life was going to be without anyone close to you. He got courage, challenged his thoughts, and decided to give his fathers home a new name. All these he planned to do through hard work and perseverance in whatever he did. Oluoch, at the back of his mind, kept on reminding himself that no situation in life was permanent. Oluoch rose to be the best farmer in the village. He had a huge herd of cattle,a legacy from his late father. The produce from his farm was amazing such that at the age of twenty-six years, Oluoch was a man of every lady's dream. The summer sun beat down mercilessly on Oluoch's back as he surveyed the sprawling expanse of golden sorghum. It was harvest time, the culmination of months of backbreaking labor, and the air crackled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. A successful harvest meant prosperity for his family farm, but the unforgiving elements could just as easily turn their bounty to dust.

Oluoch believed that he wasn't alone in his anxieties.The rhythm of the season dictated his every move.

The first tendrils of dawn painted the sky a fiery orange as the threshing commenced. The old combine harvester, christened 'Bessie' by his neighbours, rumbled to life, its mechanical symphony a familiar song of harvest. Dust swirled in the air as he steered the behemoth across the golden waves, the grain cascading into the waiting trailer like a river of amber.

Days blurred into one another. He worked tirelessly, fueled by succotash snatched on the go and the spiritual camaraderie forged in shared purpose. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as he finished a section, a sense of accomplishment washing over him with the cool evening breeze.

But nature, ever unpredictable, threw him a curveball. A sudden downpour threatened to destroy the week's harvest. With grim determination, he raced against the clock, Oluoch expertly maneuvering through the muddy field, his heart pounding with each rumble of thunder.

Finally, the storm subsided, leaving behind a glistening landscape. Relief mingled with exhaustion on his face. He had dodged a bullet, but the harvest wasn't over yet. The remaining days were a blur of activity - unloading the cart, the satisfying heft of the full sacks, the rhythmic whirring of the silo filling up with golden grain.

The culmination of his harvest arrived with the annual county fair. Oluoch stood proudly beside his family's grave as he displayed his sorghum, a golden trophy gleaming in the afternoon sun. It was a small token, but it represented the culmination of his hard work, a testament to his resilience and his love for the land.

As the last rays of the summer sun dipped below the horizon, casting the farm in a warm glow, Oluoch knew this was just the beginning of a new cycle. The land lay fallow, waiting for his touch, and he was ready to meet the challenge, forever bound to the rhythm of the seasons and the promise of harvest.