READING A SIGNAL FROM LUNGA

In the wee hours of a Thursday morning, Kabwibwi (no real name) and a group of anxious women wait for the helpless Sensele (no real name), a blameless boy who has been sick for months. Sensele’s condition has worsened after they inflict his skinny body with a round of tattoos with which a concoction of tree roots’ and leaves’ powder was administered to cure the ‘thing that crisscrossed his abdomen.’ A reasonable quantity of his remaining little blood from his anemic malady oozed out during the curing process making him weaker, earlier in the day.

Shore in Bwalya Mponda- Lunga

The entire village is on its tentacles waiting to hear the bad news about Sensele. He has been in this critical condition for days. Today, everyone who is adult enough to know the difference between life and death knows that Sensele’s days on earth are over. His uncle’s hut is burned accidentally at a fishing camp, a sure signal for a pending misfortune.

 

They are now waiting for his last breath. The wise of the village have tried everything in their books of tradition to save his life. They have persuaded his parents to say the deepest and soul-searching incantations, to seek forgiveness from our spirits for whatever wrongs they have committed so their son can live. Nothing. Hopeless. Everyone is just waiting for that solemn announcement, ‘He has passed on.”

Indeed, around 03:00hrs, amidst a heavy downpour, a sign of no good things for a patient, it happens. Sensele dies without saying his bye-byes to those who loved him. His innocence is written all over his face as he is laid supine on a fiber mat, covered in his favorite clothes and blanket. It’s over!

His young brother somewhere else is embroiled in a senseless argument, he concludes something bad (umupamba) will happen.

Sensele’s death is a trigger of a chain of events. The elderly mobilize young men to go and inform relatives who camp around the island for their fishing activities. Some camps are far away from the village and are wide apart. Nevertheless, the young men have a civic responsibility to inform everyone; otherwise, those that are ignorant of the demise will experience bad luck.

Kabwibwi, naturally, is saddened by the loss of his son. He doesn’t want his son to be buried before he has any idea of who caused his death. He must look for a signal.

He calls for a quick meeting of relatives and that of his wife to discuss the matter. They resolve that “Ukusowa ibanda” a ritual hunt is necessary to determine whether the killer is from the father’s or mother’s side. Therefore, men must leave for the hunt. And, Kabwibwi decides to be the “Mwiine banda,” the master of the hunt. He will lead the hunters with his net.

On their way into the bush, a guinea fowl is struggling to fly. An athletic young man rushes for it and captures it. The hunting team stops to deliberate this significant signal. The party concludes from their catch that the death is by witchcraft outside the two families. Or is it?

To be sure, and to find relish for the funeral, the hunt continues.

At some distance, they see a herd of lechwes. They cast their net and lure the animals into it. One male Lechwe entangles itself in the net. They quickly kill it. The narrative is now that the cause of death should be from the father’s side because the animal is male. However, Kabwibwi is not convinced. They must have another test. The hunt continues while some men take the kill home.

In the third plot, the catch is a female animal. The matter becomes complicated. It will require a witchfinder to solve. Will it be the diviner with a bead under the saucer, “akapale,” who, when the bead escapes from under the saucer during divination, will indicate that the death is caused by the man’s family? Or is it a spiritual dancer whose whisk will show who among the mourners is a culprit or some other kind of seer?

Thus were signals of my village. The remnant of which lingers on in this Christian era!

Remember the signals for good times too. Whenever you were on your way for a visit and saw a fish eagle with a catch, you knew a banquet awaited you. If a snake crossed your path, you were in for some bad luck. So many signals for so many things. What do you remember, Ungas?