"Bright
dawn broke over the Ngong Hills. The air on the hills was clear and
there was a bite on the early morning breeze lazily moving through
the thorn scrub and euphorbias. Far below on the arid African plains,
a slight shimmer, a heat haze could be seen, promise of another hot,
dry day to come. The wildebeest, zebra and gazelles were moving in
the distance; vultures and eagles started to rise and soar in the
already warm air, and nearby, on a rocky outcrop, was a small Maasai
manyatta of low dwellings, made of branches and animals skins, and
plastered with dung. Young children were driving the cattle and goats
out from the surrounding thorn enclosure, for a days grazing among
the wilder inhabitants down on the plain. Their shrill voices calling
to one another rose on the breeze - 'Na kitok - takuenya - sere !'
Today
was a special day for the morani. It was the day that Ololokwe had to
go and prove his manliness, with his 'brothers' of the same age
group. Long before he could become a tribal elder, he had to hunt and
find a lion to kill, so that he could wear the much coveted lions
mane head-dress he so admired in the other, older morani. His friends
came to his hut, and together they left the compound, wearing little
but beads, a red cloth and rough leather sandals, their bodies
covered in the greasy red ochre, which as well as being so attractive
to the girls, also kept off the biting flies. They each carried their
spears, a stout stick and a knife, and very important, two dirty
leather gourd, one containing water, and the other the clotted
mixture of ox-blood, milk and urine which would sustain them until
they returned home, successful or not, in several days time.
They
quickly trotted across the hillside, tall, lithe, naked and beautiful
young men, with not an ounce of fat on them, muscles rippling under
their reddened skin. They could maintain the shuffling trot for hours
on end. They passed through the dry grass, their feet making a soft
sliding sound, as the leather of their sandals slid over the dead
thorns and twigs, and the parched, brittle grass. They sang as they
went, a guttural almost wordless chant, and then soon fell silent as
they made their way down among the rocks, between which grew small
thorny shrubs, tufts of apparently dead grasses, small flowering
plants, which at this time of the year were covered in dried
seed-pods, and the occasional lush looking cactus. The rocks impeded
their trotting, and they had to scramble and climb down to the plain,
but once away from the Ngong, they were able to resume the pace they
had set up as they left the manyatta.
After
a few hours, the group of young men stopped by a small muddy water
hole to rest and drink, and squatted under a tall thorn tree in its
dappled shade, to consider their plans. Ololokwe and his cousin
Oltukai had been in this place recently, but had seen no trace of
lion, though with very few gazelles and little water in the area,
they were not surprised by this. They decided to strike south,
towards Olorgosaillie and the dry lake bed there, just north of
Maji-ya-Magadi (the bitter lake), where they knew that lions often
rested among the short but dense scrub, to escape the heat of the
day.
That
night, they slept at the manyatta of kinsmen, cooking and sharing
with them a young impala they had chased and speared on the way. True
to the Maasai code of hospitality, they were offered the choice of
the young girls for the night, and Oltukai gratefully accepted but
Ololokwe refused, preferring to wait until he had killed his lion and
could return home to impress the beautiful Serengai, who was soon to
deliver his child, and whom he wanted to take as his first wife.
Next
morning, they continued on their way, and entered an arid,
semi-desert country - the sun glinted harshly on the mica and quartz
stones, which threw the shimmering heat back into their faces. Their
feet kicked up ash and dust from the recently silent volcano, Ol
Donyo Lengai, far to the south of them, beyond the bitter salt lake,
Magadi, and they were scratched and torn by the sharp, wild sisal
plants which grew there around the ancient dry lake of Olorgosaillie.
This was a sacred place to their ancestors, with the evidence in the
knapped stones of earlier men all around them. Now they started to
see the tracks they had hoped for - lion ! They were impeded by the
denseness of the thorn scrub, but continued to track the lions for
several hours, until they stopped on a slight hillock, and one of the
men pointed up into the burning sky. There were dust devils twisting
and fading, but higher, far above them were vultures and eagles
circling in the rising heat, and now some of the birds were
spiralling down and down, to a spot a few miles away, where they
could just see many of them gathering around something on the ground.
A lion kill perhaps ?
The
young men increased their speed, and soon covered the distance,
taking extra care to be vigilant because the lion they sought must
surely be nearby. When they arrived at the place of the eagles, a
dreadful scene of violence and carnage greeted them. A young woman
was lying curled up, dead, in a slight hollow in the ground, her
water gourds scattered around her. Nearby was a dead and partly eaten
ox. Blood was everywhere. It was obvious she had unwittingly
disturbed a group of lion at the kill, an old and diseased ox that
must have strayed far from its owners, or might perhaps even have
been her animal she was taking to water. Even now the eagles and
vultures were tearing it to pieces as more and more of them, which
the Maasai called the black sons of Shetani, dropped out of the sky
to join in. A huge eagle reluctantly moved away from pecking the body
of the woman as the group of Maasai gathered around.
Ololokwe
was very aware that the lions would be back - perhaps a female had
killed and gone to collect her young from where she had left them
under some rocks, out of the heat of the day, even now guiding them
back to the kills. Danger was all around - the smell of death would
carry on the hot breeze; so much blood, soaking into the dust and
sand, would soon attract other lions, big males, who would make short
work of consuming both the dead ox and the young woman, and certainly
wouldn't hesitate to attack the group of young men. Ololokwe went up
to her and turned her body over - and his astonishment was vast - she
had been lying on a young, naked, almost new-born baby, who was still
now alive, although covered with his mothers blood. Her cloth and
beaded ornaments showed him that she was newly married, and that this
was her first child. He called over to Oltukai and asked him what
they should do, but his brother was frightened - 'I sense there is
much danger here, we should go - leave the child to the lions' - but
at that instant another of the moran called a warning - 'Simba' - the
lions were returning.
The
young men had their spears ready - they knew the lions would pick
only one of them to attack, and each was secretly determined it
wouldn't be him - this was an awful situation - their vigilance had
let them down, they should never have hunted lion in this dense thorn
scrub, where it was impossible to see far, and the bushes impeded
their movement.
Suddenly,
there was a crashing through the thorns, and a fine, mature male lion
came out of the bushes, straight towards Oltukai. The warriors all
together threw their spears at it, and all missed, but Ololokwe had
kept hold of his, hesitated for a second, and then when the lion was
in the act of springing onto Oltukai and the baby, thrust his spear
deep into the heart of the beast, bringing its leaping body down on
top of himself and away from his friend. The lion roared a terrible
roar, Ololokwe could see his huge fangs a few inches from his face,
smelt his acrid breath and looked at death in the mouth of that
powerful animal. He managed to twist to one side, just as the fangs
bit deep into his arm - and then, as suddenly as it had happened, the
lion relaxed, his damaged heart could pump no more, and he slumped
into death. The other morani helped him up from under the blood
covered body of the lion; Oltukai had carried a small snuff box with
him, containing ground up healing herbs, and they shook the powder
onto the deep wounds in Ololokwe's arm, but he was only concerned for
the baby - was it safe, and what should they do with it now ?
The
group squatted together, and decided that as it would be dark very
soon, they had better stay where they were for the night, and light a
huge fire to keep away the other lions. Three or four of the morani
gathered up the remains of the ox, and dragged them off about a
quarter of a mile, so that the lions might be distracted away from
them. The others quickly cut and cleared an area of scrub, and made a
circle of the thorny brushwood around Ololokwe's dead lion, and they
all crept inside the temporary stockade, where they lit a fire, and
huddled near it. They had nothing with which to wrap the baby, except
the cloth its mother had been wearing, which by now was dried and
stiff with her blood. They had nothing to drink, until one of the
young men remembered the woman had been collecting water, and went
and gathered her dropped gourds and they drank deeply after their
exertions.
Then
Ololokwe, who had the baby whimpering and shivering with cold at his
feet, suddenly had an idea. He went up to the lion, slit its under
belly right open with his knife, and pushed the baby into the still
warm body cavity of the animal. He managed to trickle a little water
in between the babies lips, and its condition seemed to improve with
the warmth.
The
morani shivered and slept on the ground, taking turns through the
night to keep the fire going, hearing the grunts and rasping roars of
the lions in the distance several times during the night, until dawn
came at last. Ololokwe and his brothers carefully skinned and removed
the lions huge tawny red mane, and they retrieved the by now very
hungry but warm baby. They wrapped it in the lions mane, and Ololokwe
carried him as they trotted back towards the north, towards the Ngong
and home. They stopped at the same manyatta for a nights rest, and
one of the women who had a young child of her own, cleaned and fed
the baby while they ate with their cousins.
They
were asked, what were they going to do with this child ? It seemed to
them all that the baby was in some way very special, having survived
its recent birth in that harsh land, protected by its mother even
after she had witnessed the killing of her ox, and again in her dying
at the hand of the lion. Then the babies miraculous escape from the
hungry lions and pecking vultures and eagles, hidden by his mother,
and his final rescue by the young man, Ololokwe. Mungu, their
god, had protected it, perhaps for some purpose, and so now it was
clearly their duty to care for it. Ololokwe hoped that perhaps
Serengai might adopt it and they could raise it with his child that
was due so soon.
They
reached their own manyatta late the next day, proudly bearing the
lions mane that Ololokwe would later make into a head-dress - and to
the astonishment and bewilderment of the tribal elders, bringing with
them the baby ! Loitokitok, the clan chief, questioned Ololokwe about
the hunt, his wounds, and how on earth they came to find a baby out
there on the volcanic ash-plains of Olorgosaillie. The elders decided
that Ololokwe could indeed adopt the child with Serengai, who had
given birth to a daughter while he had been away, and that
furthermore, for risking his own life to save the child and his
friend, he was to be granted the status of a tribal elder
immediately, before the rest of his age group. This was truly a great
honour, and the young men were feasted and praised late into the
night. They named the child after the place where it was found -
Olorgosaillie, which when given to a child, meant 'child of the lion'
- found as he was at a special and ancient sacred site where lions
now lived. Who could foretell what he might do for their clan in the
future ? Who could tell ?"
I
wrote this story about 16 or 17 years ago as part of a course I was
doing at the time ! Keen eyes will spot Christian
symbolism in it, but as a story, I can see now it needs more work !
Maybe one day .....
