Akinyi arrived at Grandma’s house and found it packed with locals bearing different ailments—sprained wrists and ankles and snake bites.
The old woman was massaging a patient who had sprained the waist and was screaming like he was possessed.
“You are here just in time, Nyakwara. Boil that drug for me,” she said, finishing with the patient.
Akinyi took the sufuria full of yellow leaves and went to the grass-thatched kitchen. When she returned, Grandma was sucking the venom from a child’s leg. She spat it out, rubbed herbs into the wound and wrapped it with a piece of cloth. Then she instructed the child’s mother to bring her the next day for a check-up.
The old woman continued attending to the patients for another hour.
“Thank you for your help,” Grandma said, washing her hands. She was one of the few old people who could cure some diseases using herbs.
“My grandmother, the town healer,” Akinyi said proudly.
She wondered about the graduates who tarmacked for jobs for several years, walking until their shoe soles got holes. Instead, her grandma, who had never stepped inside a classroom, earned a living using skills passed down to her by her mother.
“Pour some milk from that calabash,” Grandma said, pointing at the calabash at the corner. Akinyi removed the maize cob lid and poured the milk into a cup after shaking the calabash. She tasted the milk and closed her eyes because the milk was sour. She was sure that her grandma had shaken it and left it to ferment for days.
“How is your mother?”
“She is fine. Where is Grandfather?”
“He is sleeping. You know, nowadays he usually sleeps from noon until the next day. So, tell me?”
“I want your opinion about cutting those trees. My mother says that it’s blood money, and it was the reason for my father’s death.”
“Is that so?” Grandma asked, no doubt remembering her son. “I have heard that rumour going around too.”
“But it’s not true,” Akinyi said firmly.
Grandma didn’t respond, and she shook her head in disbelief. She had never understood why people always saw it fit to blame each other for the misfortune one was facing.
“I didn’t expect this from you, too,” she said, standing up and pacing the room.
“It is being rumoured. You know there can’t be smoke without fire.”
“No!”
“You have stirred enough problems with Ocholla. Let those trees be.”
“So, I am a troublemaker?”
“I did not say that. After going to the university, you now think that our ways are barbaric.”
“That’s not true. I just want us to have a better life. My father worked hard planting those trees. So, we will let them be because if we cut them, someone might kill us.”
“You see now. Don’t disregard what you hear. You can always do what you deem right, but we have warned you,” Grandma finally stood, indicating that the chapter was closed.
Akinyi was left staring at the wall. She had to do something.
***
Akinyi thought about the trees for another week. After so much deliberation, she decided to sell them. She quickly found a buyer willing to pay one thousand per tree and cut all the trees. This totalled around ten million shillings. She was so excited that she found herself turning all night long before D-day.
As the days went by, she found herself thinking less about David. Was time really the greatest healer, as they said? Or had she found better things that occupied her thoughts? She was tired of always looking at the past and regretting it. She had never imagined that David would move on without her. She could not have imagined a life without him, but she was alive and kicking.
When she informed her mother about her intention of selling the trees, her mother just sneered and kept quiet. Her Grandmother didn’t even talk to her anymore; she just went about her chores ignoring her. She was tempted to let the tree be, but she didn’t.
The following day, the timber yard personnel arrived, and they started cutting all the trees using the power saws. A crowd gathered at a distance, looking at everything in fascination. Finally, when all the trees had been loaded into the lorry, they handed her the cheque.
Her mother was looking at her keenly as she entered the house. “What is it, Mama?”
“Nothing, my daughter. I wondered how much our lives will cost,” she said, still standing at the door.
Akinyi handed her the cheque and saw her eyes widen in awe. She was angry at her and Grandma for resisting this when it was the right thing to do. Her mother quickly put on a frown and handed her the cheque. She took it and walked into the house.
Her mother was still at the door, looking into thin air.
Akinyi knew her mother had loved Absalom very much. His life had more value than money. The stubborn woman would not allow herself to tarnish his memory by accepting the money.
***
Akinyi had decided to buy a water tank. Since her mother was still adamant about all this money, she wondered if she would also refuse to use anything purchased with the money. The locals were now gossiping about how rich she was. People kept coming to her house with different money problems—school fees, food and even a funeral. It was like she wanted to vie for the gubernatorial seat. She turned them away politely. She wasn’t some charity organization.
“It’s true that when you have money, everyone loves you,” her mother commented one evening.
Her mother had thought about the issue and decided that too much tension brewed between them. While her daughter was always, she had worried they were going to die. But as the days turned into weeks, nothing happened. She then felt foolish for believing that Ochal would kill them with black magic as he had done to her Absalom.
“So, what are you planning to do with the money?”
“I wanted to buy a water tank,” Akinyi said hesitantly.
“Only a water tank?”
“What is that supposed to mean? You didn’t want the money. I am even starting to be frightened of spending it,” she said, shifting in her seat.
“I am sorry about that. I know I should be an adult and be reasonable. I am afraid.”
“But Mama, you can’t live your life in constant fear of death. Everyone is going to die in the end.”
“I know. I didn’t want us to be killed because of that money. Our lives are more precious than money.”
“They are, but that doesn’t mean we should live half a life. Father worked hard to enable us to have this money. It can change our lives for the best.”
Her mother nodded in understanding. She was then reminded that her daughter had grown into a wise woman. She was proud of her and knew that she and Absalom had done a wonderful job raising her.
She went to her mother and hugged her. They then started planning what they wanted to do around the house. Buy a tank, dig a well and build a new home. There was quite a lot to do.
***
On a warm July evening, Akinyi was busy cooking supper when Awino and her mother knocked at the door. She ushered them in.
Awino held her baby in her arms. Akinyi asked to carry the baby, and she handed it to her, adjusting the leso it was wrapped with. It was sleeping and looked peaceful.
“How are you feeling?” Akinyi asked.
“I am fine,” Awino answered, looking at her mother.
Akinyi held the baby’s hand, and she gripped it tightly, squirming and kicking her legs.
“Thank you again for everything. Awino insisted that we name the child after you,” Awino’s mother said.
“That is nice of you. When will Awino resume school?”
“I don’t know. She has to look after the child for two years. I don’t have time to sit at home and look after the child. I have to work,” Awino’s mother said, looking downcast.
Akinyi wanted to tell her that Awino needed to be in school but changed her mind. Their family needed food to eat, and therefore Awino’s mother could not afford to stay at home.
“That’s unfortunate. Two years is a long time. Let me think about it and see how we can handle the situation better.”
“Thank you. When you come up with something, let me know.”
“I will,” Akinyi said, handing the baby to Awino. After they left, an idea came to her. Adams had finished building his home, but Akinyi doubted whether he could mop the house on his own and run the other household chores.
When she asked him about it, he quickly agreed that Mama Awino could help him with the household chores. Mama Awino was happy about the arrangement. She stated that she was tired of working on people’s farms, plus the salary was enough to fend for her children. She, therefore, was going to look after her granddaughter while Awino resumed school in the next year.