It was a cold night. Cold and very, very dark. The darkness was too heavy you could actually feel it between your hands, feel it all over your body; almost like a fog. Crickets sang irregularly, frogs croaked arrogantly and various night sounds could be heard. Omwami even heard the occasional night runner whiz by. He stood by the doorway and stared at the dark sky, thinking about everything and nothing in particular.
He shifted his spear to the other hand and changed weight from his left leg to his right leg. He adjusted the piece of clothe on his waist. The cold tore into his skin hard and he wanted to hug himself tight but without warning, the look of contempt on Nyakambi’s face when he chided the younger generation flashed in his mind. He despised himself and sternly told himself that he had to be a real man.
He felt her presence more than heard her movement, and in one swift motion he turned to face her though they could hardly see each other. He held her hand and pulled her gently towards him, grateful for the warmth that only a woman’s body could provide. He rocked her in his arms and said nothing.
He loved his wife; it was a well known fact in the village. He’d been married to her for a number of years and most of his peers wondered why he did not marry the customary second wife. Most men now married two to three wives with a small minority marrying one wife as opposed to their fathers who married five or more, as long as you could provide for them. Actually the number of men who had only one wife was a handful, not more than six men. His father had seven wives, a fact that he was very proud of and which gave him immense pleasure.
He felt the tremor in his wife’s body and held her tighter, knowing without seeing that she was crying. He knew how hard it was for her and he knew that would give him more grit and determination to come back alive. Bonaneri also moved closer to him hugging him tightly till he could barely breathe. They stayed that way for some time, each drowned in their own thoughts.
“It’s cold out here,” Omwami said after a while. “Please go inside. I don’t want you developing any cold related disease. Let me stay out here and wait for the rest.”
Bonareri let out an inward wail but said nothing, trying hard to stop the cry inside her from coming free. She was clearly stressed; it was the first time her husband was going out to any kind of battle. She had never understood why men went out to fight other men, rape women and steal their hard earned property.
What was the good in war? Was the question she constantly asked herself. People lost their lives, their loved ones and their property. A small row could start jokingly and grow out of proportion. The worst part is that by the time the war is over, nobody even remembers why they were fighting in the first place.
She moved closer to her husband, her body trembling. She let the tears flow, a thousand thoughts going through her head. She wasn’t sure about the future, but….she was sure about one thing presently, and she wanted it so bad.
Omwami moved to wipe his wife’s tears in the process brushing her left breast. He was shocked at the hardness of her nipple and he knew there and then that she wanted him. Which kind of shocked him. How could she? He was going for battle, for crying out loud!
“You have to go back my love, the others will be here any moment now.” He said softly but firmly.
She held on tighter, as if triggered.
“My prince, the father to my children, my Lord, please….love me. Love me now, love me here. You have almost an hour before they get here. Do not turn me down. I am burning, my body is on fire.”
The last statement was a statement Omwami could not ignore, as he could feel the vibes from her body. She was trembling, her nipples were as hard as stones and the heat coming from her was way more than normal. Inevitably, he felt his member rise and he cursed himself for it.
“This is taboo my love. I cannot do it. It will bring bad luck to our mission. I wish I could do it, but it is unacceptable. I will be back, and I will grant your wish. You have to understand.”
“But what if you don’t come back. What if your children and I never see you again? At least leave me with memories to hold on to, as I wait for you. Something to make me smile every time I remember you,” His wife cried. “Besides, that was tradition back then. Those were myths, no evil will befall you.”
This was a side of his wife he had never seen, a passionate woman who wanted her husband, who was literally burning for him.
How could he deny her? Lovely, beautiful, loyal Bonareri. How could he deny her?
In one swift movement, before he could change his mind, he carried her in his arms and led her inside the hut. All that weight, and he still carried her gently as she smuggled closer to him. She loved his masculine smell, sweat and all. It turned her insanely on. Slowly, he lay her in bed, wishing there was light so he could look into her eyes. Removing the piece of cloth on his waist with one hand, he stroked her body tenderly with the other and she let out a little squeal of impatience.
It was too much for Omwami, and he entered her with a primitive urgency that he had never known he possessed. She gasped unbelievably, urging him on with the quick movements of her body. All these years and his wife had never lost her fire, her response as sharp as ever. He dug in deeper, the juices flowing as he body glistered with sweat in that quiet dark night.
# # # #
The men marched on silently, though it was quite hard to be as silent as could be with that large number. If they were scared, they didn’t let it show. They thought they had an idea of what was required of them, and they wanted to be done with it as fast as they could. Strike hard and fast and leave before the men of kiogoro knew what hit them.
Very simple really, depending on what point you looked at it from.
Omwami, the group leader, moved swiftly and fast making minimum noise. He inspired the others although none of them would have as much as guessed the heaviness in his heart.
His mind kept drifting to what happened earlier on. Despite himself, he smiled but caught himself with a cough. His mind was being distracted again and he now understood the wisdom of his fore fathers when they had restricted men from sleeping with their wives on the day they left for war. Like numerous times before, their ancestors were right, while they on the other hand had fallen flat. He shook his head sadly, knowing that that wisdom was gone forever.
They were almost there.
Omwami halted and those behind him automatically stopped too. It was time to do as they had earlier planned. They divided themselves into four groups. Omwami was in the leading group and three other men; ocher, mogaka and his long time friend Ayora, led the other three groups. Everyone was tensed, different thoughts going through their minds.
Omwami crossed his heart, making a silent prayer to Anyika- the god of war. Surely Anyika was not going to forsake them at this hour of need? When they needed him most? The prayer boosted his morale, and he signaled the others for them to move on.
As the brave men moved on systematically, lost in thought, none of them knew what awaited them. Little did they know the kind of nightmare they were going to face.
