"Resnick, Mike - Kirinyaga 5 - The Manamouki" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

"Would you like to come into my hut for some pombe?" he offered. "Mwange just brewed it yesterday."
"Thank you for the offer, but I do not care to drink warm pombe on a hot afternoon like this."
"It's actually quite cool," he said. "She buries the gourd in the ground to keep it that way."
"Then I will have some," I acquiesced, falling into step beside him as he drove his cattle toward his boma.
Mwange was waiting for us, and she invited us into the cool interior of the hut and poured our pombe for us, then began to leave, for manamoukis do not listen to the conversation of men.
"Stay here, Mwange," I said.
"You're sure?" she said.
"Yes."
She shrugged and sat on the floor, with her back propped up against a wall of the hut.
"What brings you here, Koriba?" asked Nkobe, sitting gingerly upon his chair, and I could see that his back was troubling him. "You have not paid us a visit before."
"The mundumugu rarely visits those who are healthy enough to visit him," I replied.
"Then this is a special occasion," said Nkobe.
"Yes," I replied, sipping my pombe. "This is a special occasion."
"What is it this time?" asked Mwange warily.
"What do you mean, 'this time'?" said Nkobe sharply.
"There have been some minor problems," I answered, "none of which concern you."
"Anything that affects Mwange concerns me," responded Nkobe. "I am not blind or deaf, Koriba. I know that the older women have refused to accept her -- and I'm getting more than a little bit angry about it. She has gone out of her way to fit in here, and has met them more than halfway."
"I did not come here to discuss Mwange with you," I said.
"Oh?" he said suspiciously.
"Are you saying we have a problem that concerns him?" demanded Mwange.
"It concerns both of you," I replied. "That is why I have come here."
"All right, Koriba -- what is it?" said Nkobe.
"You have made a good effort to fit into the community and to live as a Kikuyu, Nkobe," I said. "And yet there is one more thing that you will be expected to do, and it is this that I have come to discuss with you."
"And what is that?"
"Sooner or later, you will be expected to take another wife."
"I knew it!" said Mwange.
"I'm very happy with the wife I have," said Nkobe with unconcealed hostility.
"That may be," I said, draining the last of my pombe, "but you have no children, and as Mwange gets older she will need someone to help her with her duties."
"Now you listen to me!" snapped Nkobe. "I came here because I thought it would make Mwange happy. So far she's been ostracised and shunned and gossiped about, and now you're telling me that I have to take another wife into my house so that Mwange can keep being spat on by the other women? We don't need this, Koriba! I was just as happy on my farm in Kenya. I can go back there any time I want."
"If that is the way you feel, then perhaps you should return to Keyna," I said.
"Tom," said Mwange, staring at him, and he fell silent.
"It is true that you do not have to stay," I continued. "But you are Kikuyus, living on a Kikuyu world, and if you do stay, you will be expected to act as Kikuyus."
"There's no law that says a Kikuyu man must take a second wife," said Nkobe sullenly.
"No, there is no such law," I admitted. "Nor is there a law that says a Kikuyu man must father children. But these are our traditions, and you will be expected to abide by them."
"To hell with them!" he muttered in English.
Mwange laid a restraining hand on his arm. "There is a coterie of young warriors who live beyond the forest," she said. "Why don't they marry some of the young women? Why should the men of the village monopolize them all?"
"They cannot afford wives," I said. "That is why they live alone."
"That's their problem," said Nkobe.
"I've made many sacrifices in the name of communal harmony," said Mwange, "but this is asking too much, Koriba. We are happy just the way we are, and we intend to stay this way."
"You will not remain happy."
"What does that mean?" she demanded.
"Next month is the circumcision ritual," I said. "When it is over, there will be many girls eligible for marriage, and since you are barren, it is only reasonable to suppose that a number of their families will suggest that Nkobe pay the bride price for their daughters. He may refuse once, he may refuse twice, but if he continues to refuse, he will offend most of the village. They will assume that because he comes from Kenya he feels their women are not good enough for him, and they will be further offended by the fact that he refuses to have children with which to populate our empty planet."
"Then I'll explain my reasons to them," said Nkobe.
"They will not understand," I answered.
"No, they will not understand," agreed Mwange unhappily.
"Then they will have to learn to live with it," said Nkobe firmly.
"And you will have to learn to live with silence and animosity," I said. "Is this the life you envisioned when you came to Kirinyaga?"
"Of course not!" snapped Nkobe. "But nothing can make me -- "
"We will think about it, Koriba," interrupted Mwange.
Nkobe turned to his wife, stunned. "What are you saying?"