Tasie scanned the dry earth before him and began to
worry. The rains would soon come and he had no seed to bury under God's perfect
soil. His father would not understand how he could have lost the only money
they had to buy new seed. Seed was hard to come by but money was even more
rare. It had felt foreign in his pocket, weighing him down on one side like an
unbalanced yoke. He'd have preferred to carry unequal buckets of water over the
precious currency that his father had entrusted to his care. But Tasie was 14
years old now, a man according to all tribal traditions, and purchasing seed
was a rite of passage he had failed at miserably.
Last year his cousin Yuki reached manhood and was given
the same task to perform, among the many other rites of his age. The
celebrations went on for days after Yuki brought home enough seed for half the
village let alone his immediate kin. They had been able to grow squash that
year, a food not consumed by their family for nearly a generation. Yuki was a
hero.
Tasie's father said only one thing to him when he handed
over the seed money. "My son can do better."
He walked proudly to the market that day, waving to his
friends and uncles as he went, seeing the hope in their eyes as he strutted. He
believed his father's words for he had achieved greater things than his cousin
on many occasions before despite Yuki's seniority. Tasie was better at hoops
than his older cousin. He could pick more beans in the same amount of time. His
dung beetles raced faster and he could pronounce English words better than
almost anyone. To say he and his cousin were rivals was a gross understatement
of fact. They were more than that; they were enemies too.
Tasie could see the village in the distance, some miles
away yet across the Mara. Sparse tree clusters provided the only shade between
him and home. It was near peak day so he sought out the densest of the trees to
wait out the heat and gather his thoughts. He needed to prepare for his
father's reaction, which would undoubtedly be severe. At best his punishment
would be restrictions, he would never be allowed to marry and have children.
After all, his inability to provide was profoundly obvious. At worst
banishment; stripped of all tribal recognition, nearly naked, he would be
turned out of his village to fend for himself among the lions. He would be
labeled 'hyena', a scavenger not even good enough to be eaten.
Tasie sunk to the dirt, leaning his back against the soft
bark of a Marula tree and began to cry. His eyes darkened and a trickle of water
cut a path down his dusty face. "I am not a man," he lamented as he
cried. "I am not a man." He repeated this over and over until heat
and exhaustion took hold and he fell into a deep and troubled sleep. He dreamt
he stood in front of a mountain of seeds; his joy overwhelmed him as he ran
toward it. As he neared he heard laughing and saw his friends pointing at him.
Their brilliant smiles dug into his soul as he realized they were mocking him,
strutting exaggeratedly beside him. But each time Tasie pointed to his seed
mountain, trying to show them his success, their laughter grew louder. He
stopped running and tried to talk to them but they would not listen. Suddenly
the images of his friends dissolved and he was surrounded by hyenas. They
circled his carcass, waiting to consume him once his heart ceased its beating.
The sound of the hyenas was very loud in his ears and he tried to scream but no
sound came.
Tasie's eyes snapped open from the nightmare. He was lying
on the ground looking up into the eyes of his cousin, Yuki.
"Cousin," Yuki said, "What are you doing?
Where are the seeds?"
Tasie was too disoriented to reply. The sun had moved his
shade away and his face was no longer protected. It hurt to squint his eyes. It
hurt to think about his predicament. Why did it have to be Yuki who came to
find him?
Tasie sprang to his feet, ignoring the helping hand
proffered by his cousin. He dug his feet into the dust and held up two clenched
fists. "Stay back!" he shouted, and for a moment he wondered where
the circle of hyenas had gone. Yuki's eyebrows touched the sky and a big grin
spread across his face. Yuki was not only a year older, he was much bigger than
Tasie. His shoulders were so broad that hugging him would only be possible if
you had orangutan arms. He towered over Tasie. Even Yuki's teeth were bigger and
when he spoke it was like distant thunder.
"Where is your seed, cousin?"
Tasie shook his head as if to shake away the unpleasant
memory.
"The money, then."
Tasie continued to move his head left and right but
tipped it forward in shame. Yuki was the winner now. Tasie was nothing. Yuki
looked at the sun, gauging its position then looked around the entire horizon.
Tasie was certain that Yuki intended to do him harm and was checking for a
witness. Yuki's heavy gaze came to rest on his small cousin.
"Come." Yuki began to walk east, away from the
village. Tasie did not follow. "COME!"
Tasie shuffled along in Yuki's wake. Before long they
neared the market. Yuki brought them to the seed vendor, who eyed the young men
suspiciously.
"Wait here." Tasie's feet became bricks and he
stopped. Yuki went to the vendor, who crossed his arms tightly as if to repel
any reasonable conversation. Yuki spoke, gesturing to his small cousin as he did,
but the vendor simply shook his head. Yuki did not back down. He began to yell
and gesture wildly about, drawing the attention of other businessmen at the
market. The vendor suddenly dropped his arms and Tasie feared for his cousin's
life, for although Yuki was big for his age, the vendor was a strong man of 30
years and had arms the size of Tasie's torso. But instead of a fight, the
vendor began to laugh.
Yuki motioned for Tasie to come near so he picked up his
heavy feet and slowly made his way toward the two men.
"He will play another game of Mancala for a bag of
seed."
What? Tasie couldn't believe his ears. How did Yuki know
he had lost his money to this vendor over a game of Mancala? That he had risked
his own ego for a double or nothing bet? Why was his rival doing this thing for
him?
"Well?" The gigantic vendor bellowed. Tasie
nodded. It was his only chance for redemption.
In the back of the vendor's hut the wooden Mancala board
sat on the ground. The board was the most beautiful one Tasie had ever seen,
with carvings all around and a head indicating its strategic importance in
decision-making. Tasie had played Mancala with stones from a very young age.
His village elders had a board they used for deciding who would lead their
people. It was a game of strategy, the winner of which showing superior
leadership skills.
The vendor filled each smooth well along both sides of
the board with 4 seeds and indicated for Tasie to begin. He knew that being
first was a disadvantage but Tasie had an unorthodox way of playing that he
hoped would work to his advantage. He pulled four seeds from one of the wells
and systematically deposited them in the subsequent wells, picking up the seeds
from the fourth well and continued in this manner until he deposited his last
seed in an empty well. The vendor chuckled to himself and took his turn
accordingly. The object of the game was to move all of the seeds into the
collection well at the end of the board. The last one to move the final seed
into the collection well was the winner. The boy and the man moved adeptly and
with speed. An average game would last no more than 3 minutes.
Tasie had played the first game against the vendor believing
only that he would win but he played this game with the full knowledge that he could
lose everything. He played with every ounce of strength, energy and cunning
that he could muster. When 12 seeds remained in scattered groupings on the
board, Tasie realized that the vendor was going to lose. He could not let on
that he knew for a less-skilled player could still make a mistake now that
would lose him the game. Tasie was smarter than the average player. He would
not make a mistake this time.
The vendor took his turn, leaving 9 seeds on the board.
Tasie hesitated. The vendor grinned but Tasie was putting on a show of doubt
when he really knew exactly what to do. The vendor leaned back.
"Double or nothing again, Boy?"
Tasie's face went hot. He looked over at Yuki who shook
his head almost imperceptibly, as if to say 'don't do anything you can't undo'.
Tasie scratched his head for the benefit of the vendor.
"I...I guess so."
The vendor let out a belly laugh and Tasie felt spittle
land on his cheek. He reached out toward the wrong well and the vendor's pupils
dilated. Then he moved his hand to the next well and in 12 seconds neatly
claimed the remaining seeds. Yuki came running over to him to view the empty
board. The collection well was full. The vendor's eyes drew together in
disbelief. He patted the board as if he had missed something. He searched the
ground under the board to see if a seed had fallen out of a well, nullifying
the game. But all seeds were in the collection well.
Yuki fashioned a yoke by tying one bag from each end of a
sturdy branch. Tasie carried his winnings easily across his shoulders, which
somehow seemed bigger now. The cousins walked in silence. When they were just
outside their village Yuki stopped.
"I must leave you now, cousin."
Tasie set the seeds down. He looked up into Yuki's gentle
face. "How...?"
Yuki grinned and kicked up some dust.
"Last year when I was sent to market for seeds the
very same thing happened to me. Your father, my uncle, took me back and I
played the best Mancala game of my life. Uncle said someday I could return the favour.
Now some day you can do the same. But for now you need to take your seeds
home."
Tasie watched as his cousin slipped away behind a hut.
Just before he disappeared he looked one last time back at his cousin, held his
number 1 finger up to his lips and said, "Shhh."
Tasie loaded the seeds onto his shoulders once more. The
bags easily held twice as many seeds than his cousin had brought home the
previous year. He lifted his chin, began to smile and strutted toward home.
___________________________________
The End
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