Once Upon an African Moon

Chapter 2: The Chief's Bride

That night, Sebaga's mother called her daughter to her room. Sebaga came as soon as she received the summons, despite her bad temper. She found her mother sipping tea and sitting comfortably in her favourite chair. Her long legs were curled underneath her and she looked as serene as a swan in a lake.

"Father is impossible," Sebaga wailed. "He's given me absolutely no choice in this debacle! How can he force me to marry, and possibly a stranger for that matter? Someone I don't know or have possibly never even talked to!"

"That would be the definition of a stranger, my dear," her mother stated dryly.

"Mother! How can you joke at a time like this?" Sebaga cried.

Her mother took a sip of her tea and patted the seat next to her, silently urging her daughter to sit down. With a resigned sigh, Sebaga threw herself into the seat, next to where her mother sat.

"Did I ever tell you the story of a young lady who married a chief, my child?" Mma Sebaga asked.

Sebaga shook her head, interested in spite of herself.

"Well, pour yourself a cup of tea and I shall tell you the story," her mother said with a very merry twinkle in her eye.

Sebaga thought about refusing. She wasn't in the mood for tea. She knew from experience, however, that her mother would not be hurried. Neither would she start talking until Sebaga had a cup of tea in her hands. She stood up quickly and poured herself a cup, almost scalding her hand in the process. She added some warm goat milk and a dash of honey and walked over to where her mother sat.

Mma Sebaga looked at her pointedly and she took a quick sip of tea, burning her tongue in the process. She exhaled rapidly a few times to try and take away the burn. Satisfied, her mother began her story.

"As you are well aware, my dear child, the chief is not only the guardian of his village; he is also the man who settles disputes and who basically makes, and keeps, peace within the village. His wisdom is renowned and because of his ability to keep harmony in the village, he is very much respected.

"Well, one day, one of the villagers went to the chief for intercession. He was in quite a state because he believed his neighbour had stolen from him. As you can imagine, the old man was quite upset because he didn't have much and to have something stolen from him was a terrible thing to happen."

The queen took a sip of her tea and smiled before she continued her story.

"The chief was all too glad to listen to this poor old man. At that time, he was quite a young man and still had a lot to prove, as you can imagine! He had recently taken over as chief and was very eager to show his people what he could do."

Sebaga listened, enraptured. "What happened next?" she asked.

Her mother took another sip of tea and looked out the window. There was a small, whimsical smile on her lips and Sebaga imagined that she was remembering those days with fondness.

"Well, the chief, seated at the head of the kgotla, asked what the problem was.

"'I'm a poor man," the old man cried. 'My neighbour stole my goats and I can't afford to replace them. My children will not have milk and I will not have anything to trade with to make sure I provide for them. They will surely starve to death!'

"The chief was very excited to have a real case to listen to, I must say. It pleased him mightily to have others think he was full of wisdom and could help anybody with their problem."

Both women chuckled. Outside, the riiii-riiii of the crickets was a pleasing, if somewhat distracting sound in the darkness. Somewhere, a lion roared and for a moment there was absolute silence.