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

"Why can she not use stools, like all the other members of the village?" demanded Sabu.
"I think she is a witch," said Wambu.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"Just look at her," said Wambu. "She has seen the long rains come and go 35 times, and yet her back is not bent, and her skin is not wrinkled, and she has all her teeth."
"Her vegetables grow better than ours," added Sabo, "and yet she spends less time planting and tending to them than we do." She paused. "I think she must be a witch."
"And although she carries with her the worst of all thahus, that of barrenness, she acts as if she is not cursed at all," said Bori.
"And her new garments are still more beautiful than ours," muttered Sabo sullenly.
"That is true," agreed Bori. "Now Sabana is displeased with me because his kikoi is not so bright and soft as Nkobe's."
"And my daughters all want thrones instead of sitting stools," added Sabo. "I tell them that we have scarely enough wood for the fire, and they say that this is more important. She has turned their heads. They no longer respect their elders."
"The young women all listen to her, as if she were the wife of a chief instead of a barren manamouki," complained Wambu. "You must send her away, Koriba."
"Are you giving me an order, Wambu?" I asked softly, and the other two women immediately fell silent.
"She is an evil witch, and she must go," insisted Wambu, her outrage overcoming her fear of disobeying her mundumugu.
"She is not a witch," I said, "for if she were, then I, your mundumugu, would certainly know it. She is just a manamouki who is trying to learn our ways, and who, as you note, carries the terrible thahu of barrenness with her."
"If she is less than a witch, she is still more than a manamouki," said Sabo.
"More in what way?" I asked.
"Just more," she answered with a sullen expression.
Which totally summed up the problem.
"I will speak to her again," I said.
"And you will make her shave her head?" demanded Wambu.
"Yes."
"And remove the flowers from her hut?"
"I will discuss it."
"Perhaps you can tell Nkobe to beat her from time to time," added Sabo. "Then she would not act so much like a chief's wife."
"I feel very sorry for him," said Bori.
"For Nkobe?" I asked.
Bori nodded. "To be cursed with such a wife, and further, to have no children."
"He is a good man," agreed Sabo. "He deserves better than the Kenyan woman."
"It is my understanding that he is perfectly happy with Mwange," I said.
"That is all the more reason to pity him, for being so foolish," said Wambu.
"Have you come here to talk about Mwange or Nkobe?" I asked.
"We have said what we have come to say," replied Wambu, getting to her feet. "You must do something, mundumugu."
"I will look into the matter," I said.
She walked down the path to the village, followed by Sabo. Bori, her back bent from carrying firewood all her life, her stomach distended from producing three sons and five daughters, all but nine of her teeth missing, her legs permantly bowed from some childhood disease, Bori, who had seen but 34 long rains, stood before me for a moment.
"She really is a witch, Koriba," she said. "You have only to look at her to know it."
Then she, too, left my hill and returned to the village.
* * * *
Once again I summoned Mwange to my boma.
She came up the path with the graceful stride of a young girl, lithe and lean and filled with energy.
"How old are you, Mwange?" I asked as she approached me.
"38," she replied. "I usually tell people that I'm 35, though," she added with a smile. She stood still for a moment. "Is that why you asked me to come here? To talk about my age?"
"No," I said. "Sit down, Mwange."
She seated herself on the dirt by the ashes of my morning fire, and I squatted across from her.
"How are you adjusting to your new life on Kirinyaga?" I asked at last.
"Very well," she said enthusiastically. "I've made many friends, and I find that I don't miss the amenities of Kenya at all."
"Then you are happy here?"
"Very."
"Tell me about your friends."
"Well, my closest friend is Kibo, Koinnage's youngest wife, and I have helped Sumi and Kalena with their gardens, and -- "
"Have you no friends among the older women?" I interrupted.
"Not really," she admitted.