The Numen of Banda

One

Chapter 1 – Sosh’s Reign of Terror

The matriarch, perched on a rickety stool beneath a mango tree behind her dwelling house, shifted her haunches uncomfortably on the three-legged seat to reach for an earthen spittoon stowed beneath her perch. She lifted the lid and spat a mouthful of tobacco-contaminated spittle into the cuspidor before bellowing out the name of her twelve-year-old grandson, Benjo. In an instant, the poor boy burst out of a nearby hut and stood before his grandmother like an infantry soldier awaiting further instructions from a regimental drill sergeant.

Go and tell your father to come and see me, now! Grandma Sosh commanded without preamble or even lifting her eyes to meet Benjo’s.

The boy stood still, listening carefully to his grandmother’s diktats before quickly vanishing to carry out her wishes.

Benjamin Jogoo, affectionately known as Benjo, was a remarkable child whose decision-making skills were as sharp as those of an adult. His precocity was undeniable, and he had a natural talent for navigating complex situations with ease. Despite his exceptional abilities, Benjo’s grandmother, Sosh, never openly expressed her fondness for him. However, she would occasionally let slip a Freudian comment, revealing her deep affection for her beloved grandson. Yet, she quickly brushed it aside to conceal her chronic atychiphobia.

Nonetheless, Benjo held a special place in Sosh’s heart. She loved and cherished him deeply and, if given the opportunity, she would have mollycoddled him. Unfortunately, Sosh was too emotionally broken to provide the level of affection she desired for Benjo. Despite her disabilities, Sosh never missed a chance to offer him guidance and support in private. Sosh’s advice to Benjo always concluded with a poignant reminder that a chameleon moves calculatedly, not to miss the footprint of its forefathers. She aimed to instil in Benjo a profound respect for the customs of his Aombe clan and the traditions of the Kamba people.

In return, Benjo absorbed Sosh’s teachings in their entirety and kept them close to his heart as a token of gratitude. He understood the value of his grandmother’s wisdom and cherished the unique privilege he had in receiving it. After all, when your grandmother tells you something, it is best not to run to your mother to find out if it is true.

Sosh’s social and emotional struggles can be traced back decades, to the time of the Mau Mau war for independence against the British in colonial Kenya. The British had arrived in Kenya with the intention of imposing their will upon the people of this land, and many groups decided to fight back. One of the groups was known as the Mau Mau Rebellion, a violent protest movement against British rule in Kenya. The rebellion lasted from 1952 to 1960, and it had a profound impact on the people of Kenya. In retaliation, the British implemented ruthless tactics to quash any uprising, including the use of psychological warfare.

This British psychological warfare employed a variety of tactics, including false accusations, public humiliation, imprisonment and even torture to break the spirit of their victims. These practices had a devastating toll on the psychological well-being of those affected by them. Many Mau Mau fighters suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder depression and anxiety because of their experiences. Some were unable to cope with the psychological trauma they had endured and committed suicide as a result.

Tragically, this war had an irreversible psychological impact on Sosh’s ability to express love and compassion towards others, including members of her own family. The savage suppression claimed the lives of an estimated eleven thousand innocent Kenyans, including Sosh’s husband Jogoo. Mr Jogoo was captured on the outskirts of Nairobi while running errands for the Abardares Mau Mau command during Operation Anvil, which was conducted by the British security forces under General Erskine to flush out insurgents. The captors cut his tongue out before they strangled him and mutilated his body. Indeed, the psychological impact on Sosh and many other victims was so severe that it lasted for many years beyond the end of the Mau Mau rebellion and continues to affect many Kenyans today.

Unfortunately, due to complications arising from post-traumatic stress disorder caused by war-related experiences, Sosh’s uncompromising demeanour was often misinterpreted as negative or hostile. And despite the end of the conflict, Sosh’s inability to establish meaningful interpersonal relationships was palpable. Admittedly, since the end of the war, Sosh had not been observed publicly expressing compassion towards others, including members of her family, and even including her favourite grandson Benjo.

Sosh had served in the Kenya Land and Freedom Army (KLFA). Her confidential military discharge medical report noted that she exhibited significant symptoms of fear, anxiety, and anger, which resulted in emotional instability and unpredictability. Yet, despite her condition, Sosh was highly respected and feared in the community, thanks to her illustrious career in the KLFA. She remained one of only three female officers to ever attain the rank of field marshal. Her reputation in the south-eastern Yatta sub-county was unparalleled, earning her the admiration and respect of her peers. She was a trail-blazer, paving the way not only for other female officers but for her male counterparts as well.

Even as an octogenarian in her twilight years, Sosh’s decisions remained resolute and decisive, and no one dared to challenge them. She superintended her family with an iron will, earning herself a formidable reputation among her peers for being as tough as reinforced concrete.

The KLFA was a formidable guerrilla force that fiercely resisted British colonial rule in Kenya between 1952 and 1960. Led by experienced ex-soldiers who had previously served in the African King’s Rifles, a multi-battalion British colonial regiment that fought in both world wars, the KLFA bolstered their numbers by heavily recruiting and training hundreds of thousands of peasant farmers, many of whom were internally displaced natives alienated from their ancestral lands by British imperialism.

Sosh was a peasant recruit who rose through the ranks to become a field commander, graduating at the top of her class from the Wild School of Infantry (WSI) located deep within the Aberdare Forest. This school was renowned for its intense training, giving the KLFA a fearsome reputation and prompting one British journalist to dub the KLFA the murderous Mau Mau rebellion. However, the Mau Mau moniker originated from the KLFA’s secret codes, which were inadvertently picked up by the colonial press and popularized by rightwing British politicians in the 1950s. The phrase Mau Mau was a clever inversion of the Bantu words uma uma (get out, get out), which was a coded signal to alert fighters to evacuate quickly or take cover in anticipation of an imminent attack; when spoken quickly and repeatedly, it sounded like Mau Mau to British listeners.

If a person should be held accountable for all the good, he or she has not done, Sosh was guilty as charged. This was the reason she found herself sitting on a rickety stool beneath a mango tree behind her house, deep in thought and troubled. Due to her never-ending clan engagements, the matriarch had been putting off the decision to send her daughter-in-law, Minto, to consult with a medicine man. Those who were familiar with Sosh could confidently attest that it was uncharacteristic of her to procrastinate when it came to decision-making, no matter how simple or complex the situation was. Against this backdrop of frustrating delay, coupled with Minto’s second miscarriage in as many years, the matriarch had had enough and resolved the night before to send her to consult with a witch doctor.

Sosh knew that she had to seek the intervention of Mesenet, the revered goddess of childbirth, to ensure safe and prosperous childbirth for her beloved daughter-in-law. She took the matter seriously and spent hours contemplating the best course of action. As she sat alone, lost in thought, time seemed to slip away from her. It wasn’t until she felt drained, and so shifted her position, that she realized she had been lost in thought for over an hour, remaining in the same posture for that long. To make matters worse, she also realized that she had begun speaking to herself in a soliloquy, a behaviour that was both mortifying and frustrating. She scolded herself for losing focus and vowed to maintain her composure. With renewed determination, she continued her quest to ensure safe and successful childbirth for her daughter-in-law at any cost.

Sosh was known for her impulsive and spontaneous decision-making, which often led her to rely on her gut instincts for her final verdict. This trait was no surprise to those who knew her. However, when it came to Minto’s medical attention, Sosh’s indecision was a doubleedged sword, much like the Kamba proverb states: do it and you will regret it; don’t do it and you will regret it. No matter what decision she made, there would be consequences.

The situation was a contradiction in that any further delays in consulting a medicine man would worsen Minto’s indisposition, while deciding to take Minto to a far-off land to seek medical attention would hurt Sosh’s clan engagements. It was a difficult decision to make, and Sosh was feeling the weight of it.

Despite the conflicting priorities, Sosh boldly decided to send Minto to receive treatment from the revered Numen of Banda, who also served as the paramount chief of the Awe clan. When Sosh made decisions, they were unwavering and authoritative. She rarely sought out the counsel of third parties, except in extraordinary circumstances and in matters of life and death, such as when consulting the village oracle as the ultimate authority on a legal or metaphysical matter.

Due to her position of authority, Sosh’s decisions were inevitably accepted as orders by her subordinates, including low-ranking foot soldiers, members of clan committees, family members and anyone else who was unfortunate enough to be captured by her decisions. The impact of Sosh’s decisions was far reaching and profound, permeating down the ranks like dye bleeding into fabric. Her decisions set the tone for anyone who fell directly or indirectly under her authority.

Twenty minutes after being summoned by Benjo, Sosh’s only son, Wasa, and daughter-in-law, Minto, arrived. They sat apprehensively before their mother, whom they secretly referred to as Hammurabi the Law-Giver. Hammurabi was a historical king of the Babylonian dynasty, notorious for his draconian laws and harsh punishments. The couple likened their mother to Hammurabi because of her quick temper and tendency to slap anyone who angered her. Fearing their fate, Wasa and Minto sat in silence, akin to cows resigned to their fate at a slaughterhouse.

About half an hour earlier, Benjo’s frantic sprint had ended in a screeching halt outsideWasa’s living quarters, whereupon he delivered to his parents the summons from Sosh to attend an imperative family gathering – much like a private detective serving a subpoena to a hapless recipient. As soon as Benjo informed his parents that Sosh wished to meet them urgently, Minto and Wasa exchanged a knowing glance. This was a common mannerism between the two, a reflexive response to the countless summons they had received from Sosh over the years. The couple was all too aware that their presence in such meetings was only to be seen, and not to be heard. Nonetheless, they had no choice but to comply with Sosh’s irrevocable summons, whether they liked it or not. It was not going to be a comfortable affair anyway because Sosh was a patronizing old pain in the armchair.

Amid the tense silence, Minto’s inquisitive mind began to wander, reflecting on ideas that seemed to come out of nowhere. As the more educated of the two, she was unencumbered by traditional folklore, a quality that was both a boon and a bane for her. Since her teenage years, Minto had always been opposed to the idea of consulting a traditional medicine man as an alternative to modern medical treatment. As an adult, Minto openly questioned how a man who had never stepped foot in a science classroom, who wore no underwear, and who walked with his genitals exposed could cure hormonal problems.

For this reason, Minto had personally decided that nothing short of the fear of Sosh's threat to strangle her would convince her to entrust her maternal health care to a dubious quack. Instead, she chose to boldly express her intention to visit a modern district hospital, consult a maternal health specialist, and undergo modern clinical laboratory tests.

Nevertheless, despite Sosh’s disposition, Minto remained hopeful that her mother-in-law would view the situation from a rational perspective and choose to send her to a government hospital. Moreover, it was not lost on Minto that Sosh was eager to accept any solution that would bring an end to the series of stillbirths that had bedevilled her for years, provided that the solution did not damage Sosh’s pride.

As the couple waited for Sosh to start the meeting, Minto found herself lost in thought once more. This time, she recalled a biology lesson from her favorite teacher, Lucy, during her Year 12 class. Teacher Lucy had explained that genetic abnormalities, not witchcraft, were the cause of spontaneous early pregnancy loss, also known as miscarriage. Minto remembered how Teacher Lucy emphasized that these genetic abnormalities could be caused by either an additional or missing chromosome in the nucleus of a pregnant woman’s cells. In simpler terms, the teacher summarized the lesson by explaining that chromosomal aberration is a disruption in the formation of fetal genes, which can lead to stillbirth.

Teacher Lucy ensured that her students understood not only the senselessness of linking miscarriage to witchcraft but also the psychological harm that this falsehood causes to women who suffer from this unfortunate event. She also emphasized that those who miscarry are not at fault for their loss and that there is nothing they could have done to prevent it. Her lesson was in stark contrast to the Jungian archetypes of the Kamba traditional beliefs, which attributed all cases of miscarriage to witchcraft or infringement of taboo. Indeed, knowledge is not free; one must pay attention to acquire it, Minto concluded to herself.

Minto was reluctant to disclose her scientific explanation of miscarriage to her mother-in-law and husband. She recognized that their limited education may hinder their ability to understand the complexities of stillbirth, potentially leading to an unfortunate reaction, such as them accusing Minto of practising witchcraft. In such delicate situations, Minto needed to approach the matter with care and weigh the potential repercussions.

Moreover, Minto felt that she lacked the necessary language skills to translate complex scientific terminology from English syntax into the Kamba dialect, which made it challenging for her to convey the right information to them. After careful consideration, Minto ultimately decided not to share the scientific explanation of stillbirths with the duo, fearing she might be labelled a witch due to her infamous Aimu clan heritage.

The Aimu clan was a legendary and enigmatic group of individuals among the Kamba people that had existed for centuries. The clan was often associated with possessing potent witchcraft and magical powers, which had been passed down from generation to generation. Traditionally, their ancient knowledge of magic was shrouded in secrecy and only shared among their own. They utilized their mystical abilities to safeguard themselves and were renowned for their innate talent for detecting danger and repelling malevolent spirits.

A remarkable story of Aimu foresight is told about their successful prediction of the devastating famine of 1898, three years before it occurred. This prediction allowed them ample time to migrate temporarily to the neighbouring country of the Nyamwezi people in Tanganyika, where they remained until the famine had passed. The famine was catastrophic and pervasive throughout the entire Kamba land, killing nearly a quarter of the Kamba population, but the members of the Aimu clan were spared due to their mastery of interpreting omens.

Their magical prowess remained a source of awe and admiration, and their ability to protect themselves and others was unparalleled. Unquestionably the Aimu clan was a testament to the power of the ancient knowledge of the Kamba people and the importance of preserving it for future generations.

Eventually, Minto’s inner conflict between modern medicine and traditional remedies was put to rest, as she chose to follow Sosh’s decision irrespective of the consequences. Sosh’s reputation for having a steadfast stance on matters made Minto hesitate to challenge her. Any attempt to challenge Sosh’s decisions would have a snowball’s chance in hell. It was like poking a hungry lion or, as Minto aptly thought of it, anger had become the dominant force in society, and people were akin to wounded lions, relentlessly seeking out vulnerable prey to devour. Minto, however, was determined not to become or willingly submit to being a prey anytime soon.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Sosh finally took a sip of water from a calabash and spat three times onto a nearby woolly caper bush before breaking the silence.

Nga-Aimu, Sosh greeted her daughter-in-law with respect.

To which Minto submissively replied, Woowi.

In Kamba culture, the term nga-Aimu referred to a woman belonging to the Aimu clan. It was considered a great honour to greet someone by acknowledging their clan origin, especially when greeting one's daughter-in-law. This tradition was deeply ingrained in the Kamba people's customs as a way of showing respect and appreciation for one's heritage.

During the traditional salutation between Minto and her mother-in-law, Minto's ululating response exemplified her humble submission to her superior mother-in-law's honourable greeting. This coded exchange was a customary way for a mother-in-law to greet her daughter-in-law in Kamba culture, signifying mutual respect and acknowledging the bond between the two families. Importantly, intra-clan marriage was taboo in Kamba culture, meaning that a daughter-in-law was always from a different clan than the family she married into.

The conversation between the two women was carefully crafted to avoid the use of each other's first names, as it was taboo in Kamba culture. It was considered disrespectful for a mother-in-law to address her daughter-in-law by her given or maiden name. Daughters are often named after their grandmothers or senior aunties and therefore calling them by their maiden names was deemed disrespectful to the senior family member after whom they are named.

To avoid any conflict, it was customary to refer to one’s daughter-in-law by her clan’s name. This practice prevented any accidental slip of the tongue that might lead to breaking the taboo. Violating this taboo could result in severe consequences, such as paying fines of up to seven goats or sometimes a bull to the daughter-in-law’s kin.

Furthermore, the exchange of pleasantries before a meeting was a customary law that must be observed regardless of the meeting's intention. Even in acrimonious situations, such as mediating between two warring clans over disputes of murder or cattle rustling, exchanging pleasantries remained an essential aspect of communication in Kamba culture. This practice, believed to be dictated by ancestral spirits, was a way of showing respect and acknowledging the other person’s presence and dignity.

My daughter, Sosh began the family gathering with a commanding tone, did you know that the umbilical cords of our ancestors are interred beneath the very earth on which we stand? And mine is among them.

Minto simply nodded in acknowledgment, fully aware that Sosh was not seeking a mere affirmation, but rather, creating an opportunity to share her reflections. Sosh’s words conveyed a deep sense of reverence for their family heritage and the significance of their ancestral ties. She spoke with pride and respect for the traditions that had been passed down through generations.

Despite Sosh’s captivating icebreaker, Minto couldn’t help but feel that Sosh was preparing to deliver a truly impactful message. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, and Minto’s attention was drawn to Sosh’s every move.

Sosh was known for her relentless pursuit of perfection and her complete intolerance of any foolishness. Minto, keenly aware of this fact, recognised the shift in the air as Sosh began her pointed questioning. As Sosh's monologue unfolded, her facial expression hardened, and her voice dripped with fiery invective as she verbally lashed out at their neighbour. It was at this point that Minto understood Sosh was incensed by Kahab, suspecting the childless woman of being the witch responsible for Minto's heartbreaking stillbirths.

A descendant of the revered Aombe clan whose symbolic totem was the axe, Sosh's voice boomed through the room as she vehemently criticized Kahab, a childless woman from the less significant Asoka clan. Among the twenty-five Kamba clans, a fierce competition for supremacy thrived, with unofficial social hierarchy ranking the Aombe clan at the top, ahead of the other four in the big five clans.

Sosh could not fathom how a mere evil eye from Kahab could block her daughter-in-law's womb. Fury tightened her jaw as she glared around, determined to make her point. Unfortunately, in their Kamba community, barren women such as Kahab were often unfairly branded as witches, blamed for misfortunes like childhood illnesses and miscarriages. It was a misconception, a lingering echo of traditions that claimed to be right because it was always done that way in the past.

Nevertheless, although Sosh's words were blunt, they were not without reason. In Minto's era, the ability to conceive was highly esteemed, and those who were unable to do so, regardless of the cause, were frequently ostracized. Ms Kahab had been the subject of numerous rumours and allegations, and Sosh was merely the most recent in a lengthy line of individuals who had accused her of practicing black magic to harm others.

Despite Sosh’s volatile temper, Minto was certain that she was mentally stable. Minto would often joke that Sosh wasn’t insane, but rather had been in a perpetual bad mood for forty years. Nonetheless, Sosh’s dedication to her clan heritage and her pursuit of perfection was boundless. Unfortunately, this often resulted in her becoming excessively emotional and irrational.

For starters, the Asoka clan boasted a rich and intriguing history, one that was steeped in tales of deceit and treachery. In the Kamba language, the name Asoka translates to the sons and daughters of a snake or simply the descendants of a snake. This moniker earned the clan a reputation for being untrustworthy, a label that has persisted for generations.

Legend has it that the roots of the Asoka clan can be traced back to the twelfth century, when Mr Asoka and his wife were cast out from the mighty Aombe clan due to their cunning and duplicitous ways. Undaunted by this banishment, the Asoka family forged their own path, carving out a distinct identity as a separate Kamba clan