The River Between (12 page)

“I do, always.”

“Her last words.”

“Yes. . . .”

And Waiyaki's mind went back to that scene a few years back when they had carried Muthoni to Siriana. And he remembered her frail body, her black shining eyes, and her last message: “Tell Nyambura I see Jesus.” Now he could see her again, clearly. And he remembered her agony. Waiyaki always felt that Muthoni had found something, something that filled her soul and made her endure everything. Muthoni had tried to find salvation for herself, a surer ground on which to stand. Where did
he
stand? The yearning came back to him, expressing itself in slow but mounting waves of desire. And he fixed his eyes on Nyambura and for a moment thought he could see Muthoni the night when they had met in the darkness on the eve of the initiation. He took a step toward Nyambura and stood close to her. He took her right hand in his and at once burst out, “Nyambura, I love you.”

It was really a whisper. Nyambura saw the light in his eyes and for a second she was afraid; she could not believe her ears. But it was good that he loved her. She wanted to fall into his arms, still she feared. And now she felt a painful sorrow come into her heart as if from nowhere. A tear dropped down her left cheek. She did not try to hold it back and a second fell down the right cheek. Waiyaki pressed her hand and she returned the pressure so that he felt he would die. In a blind moment of passion he took her into his arms and pressed her close to his breast while tears from her eyes fell on to his shoulder. Nyambura did not resist but allowed herself to be held by him, the only man who could save her from her misery. Neither spoke. They were one. Waiyaki thought his quest was over.

“Will you marry me?” he whispered.

Nyambura rested on his broad breast. She wanted to say “Yes.” She longed to say this. It would cost her nothing. Only her breath. Slowly she came to her senses. She disengaged herself from him. She was no longer crying.

“Tell me, oh, tell me,” implored Waiyaki, hope and fear mixing together. There was another silence.

“No,” she said at last faintly.

It cost her a lot of effort to whisper this. But she knew she had to. It was impossible to marry him. Unless she rebelled. She didn't want to rebel like her sister. Waiyaki felt hurt.

“Why? Don't you love me?”

“I do, I do,” her heart said. “But can't you see we cannot marry? Can't you?” Aloud she said, “Father will not allow it. I cannot disobey him. He knows that we have met before. Through rumors.”

He was looking aside now and could not see the tears that flowed freely down her face. If she continued, she would sob. It was better for them to part. But she wanted him and it was painful to her that she had to leave. Quickly she moved away before it was too late. She left him standing in the same position, staring at the same place. It pained her all the more and she stood irresolutely. She knew she had to go.

“Nyambura! Nyambura!” Oh, she was gone. What had he wanted to tell her? He retraced his steps and went home, seeing nothing, feeling nothing. He just walked.

Kamau came out of his hiding place. His eyes and soul burned with malice. He'll suffer for this. And his accumulated fury rose against Waiyaki. Kamau had never forgotten that incident when Waiyaki had humiliated him in the plains. He would never forget the wound. Kamau knew that he hated Waiyaki. He was now known as the Teacher. Some said he would save the hills. Well, let him be their Teacher. Let him be their savior. Kamau rejected him. This man had humiliated his father. Would Kamau after all these things stand aside and watch Waiyaki beat him in love? No. Kamau loved Nyambura. He had always wanted her and in Makuyu he always hovered around, hoping one day to declare his love to her. Yet he had never had a good chance to open his heart to her. Today had been an excellent opportunity. He had meant to do it. He would have told her all about himself and he was sure that she would have agreed to run away with him to Nairobi. Then this fool had come. Kamau had waited for him to go but Waiyaki had persisted in staying. Then he saw them embrace. And with intense pain he saw all he had half feared confirmed before his eyes. Waiyaki was his rival to death.

Waiyaki went from ridge to ridge, meeting elder after elder. They came to him and felt comforted by the blaze in his eyes. He had a passion to live for. His god, education, guided him, showed him the light, made him overcome personal frustrations and hardships. It drove him through hills and valleys, through the forests and darkness of the night. He had not yet stopped to think where all this was leading, whether the new awareness and enthusiasm he had helped to create would be quenched by education. If anybody had suddenly asked him a question in that direction, he might have burst out: Unite and build more schools.

But just now he was faced with the task of getting more teachers for the schools already built. Something had to be done. Again Siriana was the only place which could still produce men with the necessary education for carrying on the teaching in the ridges. So he one day made a sudden journey to a ridge near Siriana, where he met some young men who were in their final year at the Mission place. He talked to them and pleaded with them. They agreed to his proposals but asked him to go back before Christmas Day to straighten out the arrangement.

At home the Kiama was getting more and more power over the people. The cry that started the new schools was again taken up. Keep the tribe pure. And people listened to them because they did not want the tribe to die. And the Kiama wanted to fight for the land which had now been taken by the settler, the missionary and the government. Kabonyi and his followers went from ridge to ridge, getting people to take the oath of allegiance to the purity of the tribe. People knew that their Teacher had taken such an oath. And he had been one of the leaders of the Kiama, at least before he resigned. Nobody could break this oath. Nobody who had taken it would ever betray the tribe.

The old rivalry went on. And it was spreading to the other ridges. Joshua's center was Makuyu, while Kameno was seen as the center of the tribe. The Teacher came from there. Waiyaki did not like to be identified with either side; he was now committed to reconciliation. But since those two memorable meetings things had gone from bad to worse. Each group seemed more arrogant and more confident of itself than ever. Joshua preached with more vigor than ever and his followers sang damnation to the pagans openly and defiantly. Joshua was identified as the enemy of the tribe. He was with Siriana, with the white settlers. For now it was said that Siriana missionaries had been sent to prepare the way for the settlers. The white people were now pouring into the interior in greater and greater numbers. Indian traders too had come and were beginning to carry on a thriving business.

For Waiyaki the fleeting feeling of guilt at having failed to preach reconciliation was now growing stronger. He had missed the opportunity at a time when he could have made his stand clear. A combination of events, excitement and Kabonyi had made him lose that moment when he had the people from the various ridges under control. Would such a chance come again? He would bide his time. He would wait for another moment, a moment when he would preach reconciliation, tolerance and unity. Then his work would be done. His mission of enlightenment through education would prosper. Early next year there would be another conference of the parents. Then he would speak his mind.

Waiyaki continued working hard day by day. The moments of self-blame came to him these days with greater and greater vigor and persistence. But he had still his joy when an old man, a woman or a child stopped him and shook hands with him, a smile of trust on their faces. He was thankful that he had left the Kiama. He would not have been able to carry on its activities and those of the new schools' committee.

He often thought of Nyambura. It pained him that she had refused him. Often he tried to whistle the whole thing off. He could only do this by throwing himself into activity.

Kinuthia came to him after school. He came with an air of secrecy.

“I would like to talk with you.”

“You have never warned me before whenever you want to speak with me.”

“Please do not laugh so,” Kinuthia begged him. “I think it is serious.”

“What?”

“What I heard. Is it true?”

“You have not told me anything about it. I am in the dark.” Waiyaki could see that something serious weighed heavily on Kinuthia. Now Kinuthia seemed embarrassed.

“You have, er . . .” There was a pause. In that pause Waiyaki felt the silence in the school. The children had gone home and Kamau, with a new teacher who had joined Marioshoni, had left.

Waiyaki said, “I am still waiting.”

“You have become one of Joshua's followers.”

“Me? Who says so?”

“Nobody really, perhaps it's a joke. You know, for example, how our people like rumors. A few people have been talking here and there. Well, it is said that you have been seen in Joshua's church many times.”

“I have been there once. But what is wrong in going there?”

“Not only that. It is said that some months ago you went to Siriana and you had a long talk with the white men there. You want to sell the people.”

Waiyaki laughed. He knew he need not take it seriously. There was nothing in it but rumors. That must have been the time he went to see the young men near Siriana about teaching in the ridges. So he said, “Well?”

“And . . .”

Waiyaki looked up. There was a change in the voice of Kinuthia.

“Let's go and sit on the grass.”

They moved in silence and sat on a grassy spot in front of the school.

“Is it true that you are intending to marry Joshua's daughter?” Kinuthia asked as soon as they had sat down.

Waiyaki almost jumped. This came to him as a surprise. He had not met Nyambura since that day. And again the memory of her refusal came back, numbing him. This was irony. That people should talk of his possible marriage to Nyambura when she had in fact refused him! And Kinuthia was talking with great excitement.

“Be careful, Waiyaki. You know the people look up to you. You are the symbol of the tribe, born again with all its purity. They adore you. They worship you. You do not know about the new oath. You have been too busy. But they are taking the new oath in your name. In the name of the Teacher and the purity of the tribe. And remember Kabonyi hates, hates you. He would kill you if he could. And he is the one who is doing all this. Why? The Kiama has power. Power. And your name is in it, giving it even greater power. Your name will be your ruin. Be careful. . . .”

Kinuthia was very excited. His voice was full of concern and anxiety. Waiyaki laid his hand on Kinuthia.

“It is all right. She would not marry me. And they would not do anything to me.”

“There are young men there. I know them. They are loyal to Kabonyi. And they are sworn to keep the tribe pure and punish betrayal. . . .”

“I tell you, she would not marry me.”

“So it is true?”

“What?”

“That you'll marry her?”

“Listen, Kinuthia. I tell you, she would not accept me.”

 • • • 

He went to see an elder a few weeks after this. The elder was a close associate of Kabonyi. The old man talked about Waiyaki's own father and grandfather. He praised them for their bravery. He ended by saying that they never would have betrayed the tribe. Waiyaki went home his heart glowing with pride. His ancestors had done well.

But at night it suddenly occurred to him that the old man hinted a warning to him. What made Waiyaki connect this warning and Kinuthia's information? Yet the more he thought about it, the more it all seemed to become clear.

 • • • 

Christmas was approaching. This season of the year coincided with the coming tribal ceremonies and rituals. Waiyaki did not take part in them as much as he used to do. His work was becoming almost more than he could manage. Many teachers from all over the ridge came to see him, and many elders and children came to him with various problems. But in spite of all this Waiyaki was losing that contact with people that can only come through taking part together in a ritual. He was becoming too obsessed with the schools and the widening rift and divisions.

Then it happened. It was a thing that scared everyone. Such a thing had never happened before. A hut that belonged to one of Joshua's newest followers was burned. Nobody was hurt but everything that was in the hut was destroyed. Waiyaki could not tell why, but he connected the incident with the Kiama. Was Kabonyi determined to destroy all that stood against him and the tribe?

The realization came to him as a shock. He instantly thought that he should not have resigned from the Kiama. Its power and influence was there, everywhere.

When the service was over, Nyambura went home to prepare food for her father. He came with some other people. Nyambura could not rest. After she had given them something to eat, she went out.

She did not know what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go. All she wanted was to be alone. She had never been the same since she rejected Waiyaki's offer of marriage. She kept her outward calmness. At home she did her small jobs as usual. But she was becoming more irritable and often resented her father's commands. She wanted to live over again the moment when she stood in Waiyaki's arms feeling that all was well. She had often prayed that Waiyaki should come to her, should love her and save her from misery. That had almost happened. He loved her. But she could not marry him. It was the thought that she was the one who had refused him which most troubled her. Would he understand? She feared that she might never see him again.

Why had she said “No” when she would have been happier saying “Yes”? She loved him. She wanted him. He was her only savior. Yet when he came to her she had run away from him. It was difficult for her to rebel against her father. He was always there, at the back of her, a weight, a conscience that showed her only one way to follow. But it was a way she did not want to follow. She now wished to rebel. Muthoni had done it. Nyambura had not Muthoni's courage. And so the struggle went on in her heart. At one time she would want to go to seek Waiyaki out and ask him to take her again. She would whisper to him, “Waiyaki, I love you.” At other times she would fight against her feelings for him and she would feel proud that she had stuck to her father. She was not sure if Joshua had so far heard about her being seen with Waiyaki. She never understood why she had told Waiyaki a lie. “He knows we have met. . . .” Yet she was convinced it was not a lie. She had always had a feeling that Joshua knew. It could be the way he looked at her, or it could be the way he twisted his preaching to remind her and others of the absolute necessity of keeping away from pagans, however learned. And then a few days before she met Waiyaki her mother had spoken to her privately. “Waiyaki is a good young man. But people can talk, you know. We do not want any more trouble in this house. I cannot bear it. Not after Muthoni . . .” Another woman had just then called on them and so Nyambura had not had a chance of hearing all that her mother had to say.

Nyambura knew that her mother liked Waiyaki. For Miriamu had never forgotten that it was Waiyaki who had showed most concern at the plight of Muthoni. It was he who had taken her to the hospital. Every night she prayed to Christ that Waiyaki might find salvation and come to their side.

Nyambura went to her usual place by Honia river. Her heart beat fast as she came near the place. It was there, there in the forest, that she had stood and rested in his arms. It was there that she had heard from his own lips that he loved her. She thought that he might still be there waiting for her. She crossed the river and tore through the bush, hoping, praying that Waiyaki might be there. Would she tell him that now she was ready, ready to marry him and go to live with him forever?

But she knew he would not be there. After all, she had not been to the place since they had parted. Still, it hurt her that he was not there. Her heart accused him of unfaithfulness. Surely he ought to come and see her. He must come again. Now. Her misery mingled with despair and she felt she could hate him. Of course it was all ridiculous. And inside her she was accusing herself for having rejected him.

She went back to the opposite bank and sat in her favorite spot. To her left was open ground where the candidates for circumcision went to shed their blood. Muthoni too had come here on the morning of her sacrifice. Nyambura did not feel at peace. The river no longer soothed her.

When the evening came and the birds began to fly away, Nyambura went home. Joshua was there standing at the door. She did not like the way he looked at her. Something was wrong. He let her enter without saying a word to her. Miriamu was inside and she too did not speak to Nyambura. Her father followed her in.

“Where have you been?” His voice was menacing. She was afraid of him.

“Near the river.”

“Who was with you?”

“I was alone, Father.” She was trembling. She had gone to the river hoping that her savior would come in a cloud and rescue her. But Waiyaki had not come. Her obedience to her father had made her lose him.

“No one?”

“Yes.”

“You are lying. You are lying.”

“I was alone, Father,” she insisted.

“Do not think I am blind. I am not that old. And don't you cheat yourself I have not heard things. If I hear that you have been seen with that young devil again you will no longer live in this house.”

“I have been alone,” she burst out, almost crying.

“I'll tell you again. If you are seen with him once more—have they not done enough harm to this house? And don't you remember how they burned the hut of a man of God?”

“But—”

“Let me catch you! Let me catch you with him again.” There was more than malice in that voice.

Nyambura did not say anything else. This was her reward for being true and obedient to him. And because of her obedience she had lost the one man whom she loved. And with him her salvation. That night she could not sleep. She wept all the time, praying that God should kill her.