Little Suns (16 page)

He would never forget this. And he was ashamed. She seemed to enjoy his shame and looked him straight in the eye and giggled. It was like that with abaThwa. They came from a different world and their ways were different. She thought Malangana’s ways were strange and foolish. He thought Mthwakazi’s ways were forward and shameless, yet much more enjoyable than the ways of amaMpondomise maidens. This tryst in the bushes by the river, for instance; it was something his body had never experienced before. Even the intercrural business he used to do with other herdboys could not match this by any measure known to man. He wanted to take the whole thing with him, the whole organ, the whole person, the whole experience, and hide it in his
egumbini
– his sleeping quarters.

They sat on the bank at the confluence of the Sulenkama and Gqukunqa rivers. Gcazimbane let them be and grazed a short distance from the river. They just sat like that, silently listening to their bodies.

The only thought that was running through Malangana’s head was that they had broken the law. He therefore had to take her to his home and place her behind the door. And then send his people to inform her people she was behind his door. When a young man did that he was admitting that he had broken the law by taking the maiden without first asking for her hand in marriage, but he was willing to pay a fine for that crime and then to proceed with proper negotiations for the marriage. But how did one do that with Mthwakazi,
inzalwamhlaba
, when one did not know who her parents were or where they were located? She was a child of the earth – an autochthon.

They were still sitting like that when the night fell. They forgot about Gcazimbane as he wandered away back to the village to his regular place of sleep among the cattle at the Great Place.

‘I want to marry you,’ he said finally, cued by a shooting star.

‘Why?’ The question seemed to be disinterested.

He did not expect that kind of question. He ignored it.

‘If I place you behind my door how do I find your people to pay the fine?’

She found this very funny and she giggled.

‘I would not agree to be placed behind the door,’ she said.

‘Why not? I thought we have an understanding. We did adult things already because we are looking forward to a future together. Is that not why you allowed me into yourself ?’

‘No one places anyone behind the door among my people,’ she said. ‘People would think I am mad if they found me sitting – or do I stand? – behind the door.’

The abaThwa were not just one people, she explained to him. Depending from what branch of the people-tree they came – be it the /Xam branch or !Kung branch or something else – they all had different customs. She herself did not know this when she was growing up. She only learned of it during the wanderings of her group of people when they met other groups that spoke different languages and prayed to different spirits and espoused different values.

Malangana thought she was telling him this as a way of turning down his proposal; she was saying they were from different worlds and therefore could not marry. He was becoming desperate.

‘What does it matter if we are different?’ he said. ‘Listen, you don’t have to sit behind my door. If you want me to woo you first, to court you, and then to send
uduli
delegations to your homestead to ask for your hand in marriage, as I would do with even a royal maiden of amaMpondo or abaThembu or amaGcaleka or any nation in the world, I can do that. I want to marry you. Don’t ask me silly questions about why I want to marry you. It is what I want to do because the heart tells me so. It is not because I have eaten the food that you carry with you. I have wanted to do so even before. I even spoke to my uncles about it.’

‘Among my people we marry first and woo later,’ she said.

This was not as preposterous as it sounded, she explained to an astounded Malangana. What would happen was that they would marry and then continue to live in their separate homes, she with her own parents and he with his. Every day Malangana would go out to hunt and would bring the quarry to his in-laws, particularly the mother-in-law. She would look at it and thank the son-in-law and tell him that it was good, but not enough. The husband and wife would meet during the day and the courtship and the wooing would happen at that time, but when evening came each one would return to his or her respective home. The following day Malangana would go to hunt again and bring the quarry to the mother-in-law, and then spend some time with his wife, and the courtship continued like the day before. Every day things would happen like that until the in-laws decided that they were now satisfied with the quarry, which of course is the
lobolo
, and the couple would now be allowed to live together. Their courtship was over and they could consummate the marriage.

Malangana was fascinated by this and he said, ‘Yes, that’s how we should do it. I want to marry you the way of the abaThwa people.’

‘The problem is how to find my people,’ said Mthwakazi.

They sat silently, the water washing their feet as it rushed on its long journey down the Gqukunqa River to join Itsitsa which would meander through valleys and mountains until it joined Tina, which then connected to the great Mzimvubu which roared for miles and miles to spew their invisible foot moults into the Great Ocean. They looked up towards the northeast, to the distant mountains. Hills, perhaps in the daytime, but at night just a blotch of black mountains. They looked at the stars that touched the top of the mountain and then spread to the rest of the heavens.

‘We can reach the stars,’ said Mthwakazi.

‘We can reach the stars?’

‘If we walk that way. If we walk and walk and walk and walk and walk right up to the top of that mountain.’

‘Yes, we can touch the stars on top of that mountain,’ said Malangana. ‘Some are practically sitting on it.’

‘We can climb from star to star. We can live in the stars together. There you can do all the marrying and the courting and the hunting. I must have a star-mother there who will accept the animals you have hunted.’

This sounded like a fascinating idea to Malangana only because he would be with Mthwakazi there. Nothing else mattered.

‘Yes, let us go now before the sun rises and sweeps the stars away,’ he said.

‘It does not matter if it’s daylight. We’ll walk in the same direction and wait for the night under that mountain. And then climb to the stars.’

Malangana jumped up. He was eager to start.

‘And when we are up there I will prove to you that there are many suns,’ he said triumphantly.

‘When we are up there you will see there is only one sun,’ said Mthwakazi, also getting to her feet.

They were both laughing as they fell into each other’s arms. They were startled from the embrace by the neighing of horses. There was Gcazimbane leading four horsemen. As they got closer Malangana knew that something serious had happened when he identified them as the elders from Matiwane’s various Houses, ranging from the Right-hand to the Left-hand and one from Iqadi. There was Sititi, Ndukumfa, Hamza and Cesane. Gcazimbane obviously led them to him. What a traitor!

‘The king has been looking for you everywhere,’ said Sititi.

‘The king is in mourning. Why should he be looking for me?’

Hamza did not have the time for his games. He dismounted his horse with a whip ready to attack Mthwakazi. Fortunately Cesane, the youngest of the brothers, was fast to manoeuvre his horse between him and the girl.

‘You are sitting here for the whole night doing
amanyala
with this Bushman girl while the nation is on fire?’ said Hamza. ‘And you call yourself a son of Matiwane?’

‘Wait, Hamza,’ said Cesane. ‘Do not take it out on the girl. She is only a girl. You know how easily they can be led astray. The one who deserves a thorough beating is Malangana.’

‘Not when they have been properly brought up like our amaMpondomise maidens,’ said Hamza, nevertheless turning his wrath towards Malangana.

Ndukumfa agreed with his brothers. ‘Malangana behaves like a boy who has not even gone to the initiation school.’

‘Who was his principal
ikhankatha
? He must be held to account,’ said Sititi.

Malangana shook his head at his conservative kin. Now they were placing the responsibility for his behaviour on his principal tutor at the initiation school. They instructed him to mount Gcazimbane forthwith and ride with them back to Sulenkama where Mhlontlo needed him urgently.

‘I can’t leave her here,’ said Malangana.

‘Mhlontlo asked us to come with you,’ said Hamza. ‘He didn’t ask us to come with anyone else.’

‘Then I am not going without her.’

Mthwakazi begged him to go with the elders. She would find her way back to the village. But Malangana insisted that he would not leave without her. The elders of the House of Matiwane relented and agreed that she should ride with Malangana on Gcazimbane back to the village, although she would have to get off before they entered the public spaces of Sulenkama lest they be accused of condoning
amanyala
and
amasikizi
– shameful and scandalous behaviour.

Various
amabutho
– regiments – had gathered already when Malangana and the elders arrived outside the Great Place and their songs could be heard from a distance. He walked around trying to locate the king and his council. He found them sitting with Hamilton Hope and Davis outside a tent near one of the wagons. Gxumisa was among the councillors. A Khoikhoi servant was offering Mhlontlo bread, coffee and eggs. He shook his head.

‘Come on, you must have breakfast,’ said Hope. And then turning to Malangana, he continued, ‘We shared a tent and he was restless the whole night. Didn’t sleep at all. He has to eat something. You can’t fight a war on an empty stomach.’

Mhlontlo raised his head and immediately as his eyes fell on Malangana his face quivered. Before he could even utter a word Malangana begged for forgiveness. He did not know that he would be needed, he said. No one told him the esteemed visitors would be here today. The last thing he had heard was that there was a stand-off.

Gxumisa mumbled to the king to calm down and Malangana was relieved to see the tension leaving his face.

‘Is it a foregone conclusion we are going to war?’ he asked.

‘It’s always been a foregone conclusion that we are going to war,’ said Hope after Davis translated Malangana’s question to his king.

‘Actually, I was asking the king,’ said Malangana. ‘As far as I know he is in mourning and is not supposed to touch weapons of war.’

‘We dealt with all that yesterday already,’ said Davis. ‘I don’t think Mr Hope wants to go over that again today.’

‘The king should not be appearing in public,’ said Malangana in English. ‘He is in mourning.’

‘Where does this man come from?’ asked Hope impatiently. ‘We are done with that, man. If you try to put a spanner in our works now you will taste more of my
kati
. Davis, remind Umhlonhlo about the loot. The war has its own rewards. When he agreed to lead his people in this war I consented, subject to Government approval of course, that all the loot he captures will be his to distribute as he chooses. You’re going to be very rich after this war, my friend.’

He patted the king on his back as he said this; Mhlontlo coughed. Both Davis and Malangana interpreted this, the latter with a sneer for they had spoken about this promise before. Mhlontlo was indeed tempted by the booty, as any war commander would be when there was a strong prospect of victory. Booty was the main thing that was motivating the petty Basotho chiefs who had fallen in line with Hope, namely Joel, Lelingoana and Lehana. It would have been a strong incentive for Mhlontlo too. But mourning took precedence over all the greed in the world.

Hope poured himself brandy in a mug and asked if Mhlontlo would have some.

‘Yes, I’ll have some of that,’ said the king.

The song of the
amabutho
was gathering momentum as more men arrived. Hope was getting excited. He told Mhlontlo the plan was surely working out well.

‘Magwayi will not withstand your forces,’ he said.

‘amaMpondomise alone? What about amaMfengu and Lehana’s people and all the others who promised to join the war?’ asked Mhlontlo. ‘amaMfengu are Government people. You cannot drag us into this war and leave them out of it.’

‘That’s not what I meant. We trust the Fingoes. They have a long history of loyalty to the Cape Colony and they’ll be in this war. So will all the allies who attended the meeting. What I meant was that your forces are so strong under your command that even on their own they can beat Magwayi. Not that they are going to be on their own, old chap.’

It was becoming clear to Malangana that the night he spent with Mthwakazi by the river had wrought changes in the lives of his people that could not be reversed. Decisions were made under those wagons which in his view were to the detriment of his people. And all because of a woman he had not been part of those decisions. He felt a deep anger towards Mthwakazi for capturing his spirit so mercilessly that he became derelict in his duty to his king and to his people. His brother the king had already shown himself quite weak by uttering such statements to the white magistrate as ‘where you die, I will die’. And here he was listening to revelations about the king having spent the night with this white man, in the same tent, and now they were sharing breakfast and brandy. He should have known better than to leave him to his own devices without his wise counsel to guide him.

Although the king was not alone. He was with Gxumisa and other councillors. How could Gxumisa agree that the king should lead
amabutho
to war while he was in mourning? How could the other elders? How could Sititi and Ndukumfa and Cesane and Gatyeni and Hamza? Of course they were old and conservative and tended to follow the king’s word, however foolish, instead of guiding him on to the correct path. These elders of the House of Matiwane had been searching for him through the night instead of counselling their king to do the right thing and stop being clay in the hands of the white man. Where were the like-minded and hot-blooded young men like Nzuze and Mahlangeni when this decision was taken to go to war under Mhlontlo’s command?