Chapter 4 One: Initiation

The night was hot; the mosquitoes bit, they sang. The power was out that night, and, worse, the hand fan had discharged. Hannah wondered why the power would go out the night before a community initiation ceremony. The past ceremonies had blossomed with steady electricity and food waiting at their doorsteps. Every essential requirement was given plenty of nights before community celebrations, but the case was different this time. This time she was supposed to have her initiation too. Her mother, Kyla, had always awaited that day, and so did she. She most times believed that it was a curse when there was no electricity or adequate food on the day of a grand celebration. She feared.

The movement to Kyxhitu island in West Africa had always been a mystery to her as Kyla barely talked to her about her real origin: she always told her that the people here loved and honored her more than the people she looked like. Hannah learned all the traditional customs and beliefs, practiced them, and sat among the locals. She enjoyed the music, the dance, the masquerade, and the language in which their every conversation was made. Although Kyla had private English lesson teachers for Hannah, she still couldn't let go of the Kyxhitu language because she communicated with friends, neighbors, and teachers, and spoke it well in the markets. She didn't mind the fact that people didn't feel very comfortable having a conversation in Kyxhitu with her. Some found it amusing, while some found it strange, though they still communicated and even asked her to quote proverbs. She loved the river dance so much; she once participated in the river dance section for children. Some believed the dance invoked evil spirits, while others said it appeased the gods mightily.

The heavy sun that shone let the mud-erected house stand upright. Unlike many other ancient African buildings, the mud house was a storey building that was architected profoundly and painted. The people lived in mud-erected houses while places of meetings, religious gatherings, and chief priests' houses were organized with fronds. Her eyes peered at the paintings her mother had bought before returning to work (the ones she never knew about). She loved the ebony-complexioned girl with the brightly colored teeth, the glamour in her skin color, and her teeth colour was exquisite. One thing was, she never wished to be that color; her mother had always told her that her color was supreme. Despite having heard that, Hannah still kept good relationships with friends and neighbors. The red painting on the face for the initiation ceremony would probably be her biggest challenge; hers would perhaps be the least conspicuous.

Kyla's paintbrush smoothed her skin gently; it tickled her and pinched her the same way. Sarusa and Galaazhi waited in the living room for Hannah to get prepared for the ceremony. The bright look on their faces aroused an unimaginable resplendence. Their hair was beautifully woven, but organically straightened. They called it a double-cross weave: typical for locals of that vicinity. Even the boys left their hair to grow until the initiation ceremony, which they had to decide. Galaazhi's hair was longer than Sarusa's without regard to the fact that Galaazhi was a boy. He didn't wear the Poloshoshi (head bead) and the Madishoshu (headgear) the girls wore. He was rather open-chested and neck-beaded for the ceremony.

The brush got a little itchy and Hannah wanted to take a break from the combing. "It itches Tata," Hannah said. Tata means "mother" in the Khyxhitu language. Kyla smiled at her weakness. Kyla watched her from the mirror and said, "I might have to get to work immediately after your initiation."

Hannah didn't like the idea of her mother constantly telling her that she had to get to work. She never understood how it went. "I get that you're the keeper of the golden rings and all, but…" Hannah turned to face her, "I've never heard about what you people do."

She could see that her mother was slightly upset by that question and turned her head back to face the mirror. "You don't have to worry about anything we do at work, Oma," Kyla said. Omasira was Hannah's Kyxhitu name, which her friends, neighbors and people who knew her around called her. Her mother called her the name only when she was angry with her. The name meant "Child of the white." Soon after, Hannah was done with her preparations and joined Galaazhi and Sarusa at the festival. Kyla went later on.

The festival started with the dance and drumbeats, people singing in exuberance and others responding to every beat that was made. Hannah nodded her head and even danced along to the beats she recognised. There was the masquerade dance, the fight, and the haircutting for the males. The Kadi kyxhitu (Priest or King of the Kyxhitu people) came forward, alongside his numerous assistants, carrying a large wooden bowl filled with animal blood. They called it Yaji or Haya. Kadi Kyxhitu's real name was Fizima Hoditu. He blessed it and made some incantations believed to sanctify the drinks. The people were bowed with their foreheads pressed against the mud as a sign of loyalty to their ancestors and the gods of the land. After that section, they began pouring the animal blood into wooden cups for all fifteen-year-olds who were at the festival for initiation. The initiation came earliest, at fifteen years of age, for those who had remarkable parents or had done something remarkable for the improvement of the Kyxhitu community. Hannah's condition, perhaps, was the influential mother she had. Drinking the Yaji was believed to make a person stronger to fight and for protection from dark forces and it did. Sarusa and Hannah tried to persuade Galaazhi to cut his hair during the haircutting period, but he preferred leaving it, saying that it was his dignity and wholesomeness.

Horaeti Hoditu, Kadi Kyxhitu's daughter, was popularly known as the fortune-teller. People most times rumored that her visions were evil and could kill; they never wanted her to be the next Kadi after Fizima retired because they believed she would cause lots of scenes and kill so many people. Also, people forgot that she was a good fortune-teller, they rather highlighted the worst to describe her. People also believed that the red paint on her eye was her power for vision, none of which was proven true by any means. "Let's go check out Horaeti," Sarusa said in Kyxhitu.

"No," Hannah said, looking at Galaazhi as if she wanted a back-up from him, "You know so much about her, don't you? She tells people evil. She's a bad person."

"People die, don't they?" Sarusa asked. Hannah nodded to the positive. "So, where does the fallacy come from?" Sarusa added.

"Oligad died because of her. My neighbour, Erete, died too," Hannah said with a high level of persuasion, "Lots, many people – people think she wouldn't make a good Kadi. The oracle failed, and the Kimga chains went missing because of her. And you're telling me she's not to be blamed?"

"Do you believe in fate?" Galaazhi asked. Hannah was surprised to hear Galaazhi ask her that question. She expected Galaazhi to dissuade Sarusa from doing such an imprudent thing.

"If I tell you that you will die tomorrow, and you do, does it mean that I will kill you?" Galaazhi asked.

"Possibly," Hannah said. She looked around to check whether someone was coming or hearing them, "Things like this are not supposed to be said out loud. Remember the walls have ears, the gods can grant your wishes."

"Then maybe the gods wouldn't grant the wishes of a quiet person," Sarusa said, "I'm going to meet her. She doesn't always tell the bad." Sarusa stood up to walk towards Horaeti. Galaazhi followed her.

"I cannot sit down and watch my friends walk into the fire," Hannah said, following them. "What if she tells you something bad?"

Sarusa smiled and stopped for a bit, "You don't know how this thing works, do you?" Sarusa watched Hannah's perplexed face as she continued. "If she tells me something bad – depending on the timeframe – I'll rebuke it," Sarusa said. Sarusa knew Hannah was about to ask 'how?' so she told her. They eventually walked to Horaeti, and she gave Hannah a lingering look. The girl that met Horaeti for consulting before they did was eventually baptised with salty water with claims that the bug wouldn't have its way inside her. She shook vigorously as though she had been bathed with boiling water and screamed very loudly. "She revoked it," Sarusa told Hannah. Horaeti began with Galaazhi: she said that his hair would cause weakness, and he would crumble if not well-cared for. Each time Horaeti said something, it was left to the customer to figure it out. Galaazhi didn't understand what was meant by 'well-cared for'. He still decided to do the regular thing: take care of his hair daily with the various hair products, both local and foreign. Sarusa's fortune was astounding; she never expected such, but it was good.

"Come here, girl," Horaeti said to Hannah. Hannah feverishly walked towards her and held out her palms. Horaeti examined her palm and made a bewildered expression.

"Do you have a sister?" Horaeti asked, trying not to look into Hannah's eyes.

"No," Hannah said, trembling.

"You don't understand yourself. She comes with so many things untold," Horaeti let go of her and started to pack up her things. "You must find her. She knows as much."

"But how will I find someone I don't know about?"

Horaeti clasped her hands like someone who was about to pray and rubbed her forehead on the mud.

Hannah thought about everything Horaeti said lots of times, but her mother kept bickering.

"How dare you? What were you thinking? Don't you know who she is?" Kyla kept shouting.

"She said I have a sister," Hannah said.

Kyla covered her lips with her palm and acted as if she wanted to cry, "Your sister is dead," Kyla said in a quiet tone.

"I don't believe that. You said everything she said came to pass," Hannah said.

"We buried her, me and your dad," Kyla said. Hannah looked away. She was done with her mother's ridiculous merry-go-rounds. Her mother still wouldn't let her have a phone so that she could meet Horaeti again and ask her the name of her sister. The quietness that lingered was not shared; they both had something that had not been properly addressed.

"So, why did you meet her?" Kyla asked.

"Nothing," Hannah said, expressionlessly. Kyla sighed in exasperation, opened her mouth to say something and then shut it. "Look, Horaeti, she gets stuff into your head. Things you can't decide for yourself, Hannah," her mother said.

"What about the phone? I still wouldn't get it?" Hannah asked.

"Possibly. Yes," Kyla responded. Hannah was angry and started running up the stairs when someone opened the door. It was a small man she didn't know.

"Ms. Terry," the man said. Kyla turned around to see him. She knew who he was by the way she smiled at him.

"We've got the staff," the man said. Hannah looked around in confusion, she didn't know what was meant by 'the staff'. She walked her way up into her bedroom.

Kyla nodded in confirmation of what he said.