The Initiation Ceremony Ends.

Moseti Kalibari had noticed the scrawny herds boy as soon as he sat down. He watched him get scolded by an older man which got a smile out of him. Then the boy just got up and walked away. He had not forgotten the humiliation that lowly herds boy had caused him.

"Father can I take a short walk to ease my legs?" Moseti asked as soon as the chief sat down.

Chief Kalibari was visibly annoyed at his sons request.

"You want to wander aimlessly into the wild again?" He muttered bitterly, "You are next in line to the chieftain Moseti. You are here to show character to your people. To engage in this important ceremony and appreciate our history, our culture."

"Behave like so and leave this adventurous business." He said masking his anger with a forceful smile to the now sulking Moseti.

Chief Kalibari sighed inwardly, he remembered his first ceremony. How he had performed a tribute to his ancestors, how the people had applauded.

He had allowed his sons adventurous nature at first , his escapades. He was always ditching his training and the elders whom he had tasked teaching him the clans history.

He would have to be more strict now, to instill more discipline. To make a leader out of him just as his father had done.

As the ceremony came to a close, the moran initiates would embark south to Shitu valley. It would be many moons before they could be seen again. There they would be trained and forged into warriors. After they would be ranked and bestowed upon the revered title of morans.

According to prowess and individual skill there were three levels of morans. The epi , were the lowest ranked and were tasked with offering protection within the village walls. They were under a leader, the third general.

The Kopi were the second and main rank. These individuals were expert combatants and warriors of the spear and sword. They protected the clans from all external threats be it raids, war or ferocious beasts. They were also under a general. The second General.

Then there was the third and last rank, the kai. The ultimate warrior. Little was said or known of this last rank. They were a mysterious existence, feared and respected by all and they automatically etched deep into the history of the clans.

Mariani had two kai warriors since time immemorial, now only one resided within its walls. He was almost a rumor as he was hardly ever seen and for those very few who had come across him they were deservedly silent. But they could not hide the terror in their eyes.

Lekuta village had three kai warriors in their long history, two were currently residing within its walls. The chief had taken them in his homestead where they were treated like royalty, the clans true protectors.

"Grandpa I want to be a moran." Johari whispered, his eyes lost in his thoughts and dreams. His face serene with ambition.

"I will be strong and everybody will fear me."

Old Mzee Tembo laughed and patted his shoulder as they followed the multitude back home.

"I wait for that day my boy and I pray for it with all my soul."