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    Simbi
    Simbi
    Simbi
    Ebook105 pages1 hour

    Simbi

    By Franz Owano, Judy Kaaria, George Gathiani and

    ()

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    A village's perverse aspiration for perfection. Abandoning itself to the profligate unkindness its founders devised. Giving way to divine retribution. A man's war with himself. Foregoing the simple joy of life for power. Attained with the incursion of a terrible debt. An exposition on the nature of man. Is he defined by a singular deed or the sum total of cumulative action? Does this condemn and absolve him simultaneously? Scientific breakthrough unearths a rogue gene that finally places immortality in mankind's grasp, but at the price of a baby's life. Splitting the world in two in the face of this ethical dilemma. Is a United States of Africa feasible? What frameworks should be instituted to transform this dream into reality? Are external interests a hindrance or are Africans the enemy of their own progress? A Kenyan couple grapples with modernity, feminism and resultant marital strife. Will they make it through the storm or be consigned as casualties of love and war?

    An outstanding collection of essays and short stories. By turns dramatic, fanciful, humorous and evocative.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWanderer's Path Publishers
    Release dateOct 18, 2023
    ISBN9798223886044
    Simbi
    Author

    Franz Owano

    Franz Owano is a medical doctor by profession who lives and works in Nairobi Kenya.He boasts of a body of works.He has penned 6 plays,a journal,2 novellas and a collection of short stories. He enjoys reading,writting and travelling in his free time.

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      Book preview

      Simbi - Franz Owano

      SIMBI

      A collection of essays and short stories

      Contributing Authors

      Sifa Toywa

      Nelson Omech

      Stephen Ndirangu

      Franz Owano

      George Gathiani

      Judy Kaaria

      The short stories are a work of fiction.

      Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

      SIMBI.

      First edition. October 2023.

      Copyright© 2023.

      ––––––––

      All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission.

      ––––––––

      Design and Typography by Tamati Kraido

      Published by Wanderer’s Path Publishers

      Email;[email protected]

      P.O Box 5232 – 00200

      Tel; 0726311659

      Nairobi Kenya

      The books the world calls immoral are the books that show the world its own shame.

      -Oscar Wilde

      EDITOR’S NOTE

      By Franz Owano

      There are two ways to achieve transcendence; either by procreation or creating art. By virtue of their participation in this noble endeavor, the authors of this book chose the latter. It is far too often pontificated that one should grasp only for that within their reach. An assertion I adamantly repudiate. My cohort and I cast aside the weight of communal expectation and dare to dream. In anticipation that our ideas may yet make a difference in a world fraught with cynicism. Wherever this book ends up whether in an office, library or reader’s abode; whether it inspires revolution or revolt; whether it garners critical acclaim or gathers dust, provided it is in your homes then it is in your hearts. And that in itself makes us IMMORTAL.

      ––––––––

      Table of Contents

      Simbi

      The Night’s Debt

      The road to Damascus

      Baby Juice

      Is a United States of Africa elusive?

      Love & War

      SIMBI

      By Franz Owano

      *

      There is something to be said about putting a body into the ground that offers the bereaved finality. A return to the soil from whence we came. Providing a sense of closure. Solace Awiti was denied for there was no body to mourn over or bury. Her last living child had passed on in Yimbo and word of his demise reached her disconsolate ears via the emissaries of the Chieftain he served.

      No dirges were sang. Neither were mock battles staged by peers of his age set in his memory. His mother mourned him virtually alone and on the fourth day, a banana trunk was symbolically buried. Unlike most Luo funerals known to be fraught with boundless sentiment and emotion; the deceased’s interment was uncharacteristically morbid. The young man had been rumored to have committed the most grievous of taboos-suicide. Meriting the villagers’ apathy. Nyasaye, the most high granted the gift of life, and only he was entitled to withdraw this precious endowment. For fear of invoking the ancestors’ wrath those who knew him; even remotely steered clear; abandoning Awiti to the grips of dejection and solitude.

      As a migogo (a widow) with no living male heirs to assert her place in the homestead, her prospects further plummeted. By virtue of her gender Chik, (the ways of the tribe) propounded no dispensations for women to inherit land. Worn out and forlorn well past the childbearing epoch, a remarriage was practically untenable. Even on the slim chance, such an unlikely union could be negotiated; her late son’s objectionable transition into the ancestral plains sullied her with the taint of scandal still yet fresh and unremitting.

      Assailed by superstition she judiciously packed her earthly belongings and turned her back on the people of Sakwa; with the commensurate verve they had shunned her. Seeking acceptance, community and hopefully greener pastures.

      *

      Five years of loyalty is nearly a record for you Omondi, Abaja commented casually.

      Her son wasn’t a demonstrative man, but he almost went down on his knees in a clumsy gesture of obeisance. She peered into his scraggly face and pondered at her power to trap the heart and allegiance of such a hardened soul. He’d been a chameleon before. Though she believed he wouldn’t change colour again, she made allowances for him to revert to his untrustworthy nature.

      She stepped back and allowed him to regain his composure. It wasn’t her intention to reduce him to the squalid level of panting for imaginary forgiveness. Trouble had come to Simbi in the wake of the Lang’o tribesmen and rather sooner than she had anticipated. Coupled with the untimely demise of Chief Otom Sifa left a cabal of Jodongo; (the council of elders) fixated on the provisions of an heir.

      It was up to Abaja to find some way to circumvent the possible ascension of her co-wives’ sons. To protect her interests and ensure against the future she elected to be proactive.

      I’m glad you survived the raid, she remarked. Regrettably I must however put you in harm’s way.

      Omondi suppressed a whimper of protest and had to bite his lip to govern himself.

      "Gather the Thuondi, our warriors and..."

      On whose authority? He interjected. The council hasn’t...

      Your father was a flawed man, Abaja cut in calmly. In spite of his imperfections, he developed the sagacity to accept the wisdom of my counsel. Do you possess the cunning and guile to annex the chiefdom without my intervention?

      Hardly, Omondi replied with flattering exasperation.

      Neither did he, she revealed.

      It was the last time he dared to challenge her. Minutes later he berated whatever spirit had possessed him to open his mouth in the first place. With unrestrained fury, she whipped him with scathing contempt; until he bent like a blade of grass before the blast of a hurricane.

      His younger brother Owour rushed into the hut to intercede on Omondi’s behalf. Abaja turned her searing rage on his unfortunate confederate and was soon cowering on his knees. When she’d chastised her sons to her complete satisfaction she swept out of the hut like a tigress.

      She spares neither man nor beast in her anger! Omondi exclaimed peevishly. Devoid of compunction for anyone’s feelings.

      I feel drained, Owuor confessed. It’s as if she’s sapped every ounce of vitality out of my body!

      Can you believe she is well past seventy seasons? Omondi observed. Imagine the misery our late father endured until recently!

      May he finally frolic in peace with the ancestors, his brother acknowledged.

      *

      Two moons later

      Superficially she appeared to be a homely unobtrusive grandmother. Only her immediate kin knew what really lurked beneath her well-mannered veneer. No toddler passed by unengaged playfully by Abaja nor did any woman cross her general vicinity without a kind word of encouragement. The deference she perfunctorily extended towards men was a ruse those acquainted with her methods found almost laughable. Be they amendments or decrees no edicts were sanctioned without her assent. The men comprising the council of elders ruled only in name. Unofficially ceding their influence to a seemingly withered elderly woman.

      Abaja basked outside her homestead, tickling a neighbor’s baby into the rapture of mirth. Omondi stood next to her; lost in the wilderness of his turbid mind.  Everything had gone according to plan. The skirmishes with the volatile Lang’o which she had engineered as a distraction

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