Fifteen minutes later, he stood at the gateway to Becky's compound. Much to his surprise, smoke spewed from the kitchen. He could not believe she was already awake.
He scanned the compound; at first, he could not see any sign of her. Then he moved closer, and she came into view bent down beside the chicken coop, her back to him, washing dishes.
He paced towards her.
Becky heard his footsteps, straightened, turned around and met his gaze. Though alarmed, she forced a warm smile as she began wiping her hands dry against the leso wrapped around her waist.
Pabonya stood only a few steps away silently studying her every move.
Graciously she extended her hand to greet him.
Pabonya didn't react, determined not to be entertained by such gestures of humility. He had hoped to find her in the similar attitude as the previous day. It would have afforded him a favourable atmosphere to engage in a verbal fight.
Becky withdrew her hand, noticing the menacing look clouding his face. She was reminded of how badly she had crossed him, and perceived that this visit was not socially concerned. Had he devised a way to settle the unfinished business of the previous day?
Slowly, her smile died curdling into something different.
"I haven't come in peace," Pabonya confirmed. "I am here to notify you that your welcome in this clan is overdue."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you are in so much trouble. You made an enemy out of me with your outburst yesterday."
Becky puzzled over his words. Instead of escalating things, it was better to make necessary concession for the sake of peace . "I am sorry!" she said grimacing with resignition. "Whatever happened yesterday, I sincerely regret it."
Pabonya, having not missed the carefully conciliatory tone in that voice, was amused. His dominance had been restored. But he wasn't about to leave it at that.
"Apology not accepted," he spat. "To serve as an example to other women with such minds, you shall be punished. You will leave my clan. Yesterday you drew the battle lines. Let's get on with the war and see who triumphs - and what becomes of your arrogance. I assure you, your world is about to blow up in a way you will never be able to mend."
Becky sighed in disappointment. Her efforts at reconciliation would bear no fruit.
She had once held immense respect for this elder. But through his endless contempt he had chipped it away bit by bit. There is no dignity in respecting someone who does not respect you – she thought.
This was another incredible instant of how the climate of their relations had changed. Once, in the early days, when things were rosy, he had showered her with favor—lending his men and oxen to help till her land. Now she was differently regarded. All she saw was a man eager to scold and appraise her every move with suspicion.
"So you won't forgive me?" she asked this time summoning a callous smile that reflected poise and fearlessness, "You came here just to aggravate me? You think you can scare me?"
Pabonya laughed incredulously. "I am not interested in scaring. But rather to declare what is about to befall you. What you have committed is a great evil. And it would be paid for in full measure. Am telling you again, you will be expelled from the clan. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can atone for your sins."
Though Becky did not fully grasp the weight of his threat, she felt its hostility. Her heart ached. For how long must she endure his humiliation?
She gathered herself. "Perhaps we need to come to an understanding," she said, voice serious now. "It is because of one man that I live among you. I am neither married to you nor to the clan. If you or any elder have grievances, report them to my husband - he would listen. But don't barge into my house at dawn ranting like this."
Again that note of confidence was still in her voice. Pabonya didn't like.
She had resolved to resist his attempts to bully and molest her to give up her self. She would not allow him destroy every facet of the person she was and replace it with a being of his own creation. Neither would she let anyone rob her of her ability to think and judge for herself what is right from what is wrong. Her ideals would never subscribe to the primitive notions of customs and traditions of the majority of those around her.
Once again, Pabonya had been rubbed the wrong way. These seething challenges were rude insults. And were being done here - in his own territory. Was he not a permanent member of the clan unlike her - a woman whose position could be substituted anytime? Was this not Kapsoket clan, famed for its strict adherence to the norms and customs of the tribe? Was respect for the elders no longer an integral part of the norms and customs?
It was clear. Becky was heretic, failing to meet the bare minimum to remain among them.
"You have forgotten your place," he growl. "Don't think for a moment you are special. Marrying our son didn't empower you to hurl insults at elders."
"I am tired! I am tired! I am tired!" she suddenly yelled like one hypnotized hands raised fingers locked behind her head.
Pabonya stared at her with astonishment. She had turned black with rage.
"Calm down," he had been looking forward to this verbal exchange. But now wrought, he pleaded uneasy, his pique suddenly melted. He couldn't handle it.
"Don't tell me to calm down," she shot back. "You won't keep stepping on me like I am nothing. Hurry up with whatever it is you plan to do."
He felt the lethal bite in those words. It was another misery. He looked into her eyes calculatingly, trying very hard not to show a shiver that coursed through him. He was conscious of the fact that the confrontation was spiraling out of control. Soon they would attract an audience, gossip would spread, and Becky might even gain a gaggle of sympathizers.
He could not let that happen. Quickly, he decided to tactically withdraw and go tie up some loose ends. He needed to relay his plans with more precisions; induce a few people to look at her in a bad light. A little stain on her image could turn everyone against her. He needed a coalition to back him. Only then would he truly bring her world down.
He cast one last look at her and the flaming raging hatred in his heart intensified. He felt like grabbing her by the arms and crushing her underfoot into a paste like some annoying bedbug.
But how sorrowful, he lacked the powers - at least for now.
To Becky's relief, Pabonya turned and left. She resumed washing the dishes. But her mind churned. Was he capable of ruining her life? She could not guess how - but his influence in Tirita, Kures and the whole of Kapsoket clan was undeniable. How would she stand to a man of such stature?
She was not a coward. She would face whatever came like a brave soldier in a raging battle. Besides, her husband loved her. She trusted he would protect her. Nothing, she believed, could come in between them.