What does someone do after losing their parent? Njoki wondered as she stared at the supposed carving of her mother. Even though beautiful, it looked nothing like her. The shape of her head was wrong; her eyelashes were longer and lower. Yet it didn't matter. Her mother was dead, and the carving was a better sight than her dead body.
She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, and when she looked at the carving again, she saw her mother smiling at her. Maybe she had always had long eyelashes, or her face was much longer and leaner. She wondered if she could make the changes to her mother's face. But that was the least of her problems as she now had to take her mother's place in the council.
Njoki glanced at the edge of the high wall. There, she saw the carving of Anajiru, who was the founder of her clan and her ancestor. Hundreds of carvings, portraits and sculptures of her ancestors followed each other until they stopped at her mother's.
Soon, mine will be there, and my daughter will look at it as she inherits my seat in the council of elders. She almost chuckled at that. She was only sixteen years old and would be among the youngest to ever sit in the council of elders in a history that lasted three millennia. As the daughter of a clan elder, she had always known she would eventually become one. However, this was too soon for her. She was still a girl. How could she be expected to be one of the most powerful people in all of Aka? Most would argue she was the most powerful, for she was now ruling over the most powerful and richest of the nine realms. Was she ready for such a task?
She began moving up the wall, looking at her ancestors. They all looked powerful, stern and deserving to be an elder. Most were already experienced in the politics of the nine realms and had achieved so much. Some had won wars. Others were great diviners who performed miracles with their magic. All she had done was be the daughter of a great woman. She had achieved nothing, and yet here she was about to take the same seat her ancestors had sat on. It didn't feel fair. If only her mother had lived longer, maybe she would have done something to make her deserving of the seat.
Anajiru was one of the nine daughters of Mumbi, the heroine chosen by the goddess to wield her power and finally end the thousand-year war. She was carved holding her shield and spear. On her shaved head, she wore the headdress of a lion that made her look so fierce and strong. During the war, Aka was broken into nine pieces, and Mumbi granted each daughter a realm to rule. For thousands of years, ever since, the descendants of the nine daughters had ruled the nine realms, and the leader of each clan held a seat in the council of elders. It had always been so, and it would always be so. That's why even though Njoki felt she wasn't ready, she couldn't say no.
Out of habit, she raised her head and looked at the ceiling of the hall. It was so high that Njoki had thought as a child that it reached the sky. Maybe that was the effect the giants wished the hall to have when they built it. The hall once belonged to them, long before they had ruled Aka. The city of Suma was the oldest in the nine realms, as it had been the only city that survived when the giant fought humans and lost.
Suddenly, she let out a scream. It echoed all through the empty hall, or so she had thought. A sharp noise ran through the hall, and when she turned, she saw her grandmother standing at the entrance of the mighty hall holding her walking stick. She looked so small, especially next to the giant statues that were carved to seem as if to support the ceiling.
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, her grandmother finally reached where she stood. At least it gave her the time to recover and appear strong.
Waceke, her grandmother, was shorter than her due to her bent back. Her hair was grey, and wrinkles were all over her skin. Still, she had a powerful aura around her that anybody who neared her sensed. Her eyes were the most powerful part of her. The moran warrior she had been when younger could still be seen in them. She wore the traditional gown of her clan. It was brown like the earth, with cowrie shells on the edges. Njoki wore a similar dress, but hers was much fitting and had beautiful patterns drawn all over the dress. It even had some gems that felt uncomfortable, but it was already too late to do anything.
'The bad times end, but so do the good ones.' Her grandmother's wise words did nothing to soothe the pain she was feeling. Instead, it made her even more anxious and unstable, especially when she said, 'It's now your turn.'
Njoki wanted to say no, but she could never say that to her grandmother. Somehow, those eyes could terrify anyone into her bidding. And so, she nodded as she waited for the next words of encouragement from the old woman.
'Did you know your mother never wanted to rule?' That wasn't what Njoki had been expecting. What trick was her grandmother playing on her?
'When I decided to step down, she refused to take over as an elder. She told me she wanted to travel with the bards, to sing and dance from village to city. When I refused, she ran away. But she returned some nine moons later, and she took over as the elder of our clan. She knew she had to be strong for our clan, for our realm. And that responsibility is now yours, whether you like it or not.'
Njoki was silent as she remembered her mother. That wasn't the woman who had raised her. Njeri, daughter of Wacheke, was a strong woman, a confident leader who never ran away from any challenge.
'It's normal to feel like you do. I too was overwhelmed when it was my turn.' Wacheke sighed, almost as if she was ashamed of the vulnerable words she was about to share.
'The way of the spear was how I had lived my life, it was how I had thought my life would always be. But after my elder sister's death, I inherited her seat even though I was less prepared for it than you.' She paused for a moment. 'But I got used to it. I know you feel like you are not strong enough, but the strength to lead is different from that of being a moran, or a diviner. I see that strength in you and the potential to be the greatest leader from our clan.' Her grandmother then held her with her wrinkled yet rough hand. Her hand was still strong.
'Why don't you be elder again? I am not ready at the moment, but in a few years, I promise you, I will.' Njoki asked even though she knew the answer.
'Unfortunately, its your turn, whether you are ready or not. I will leave you to say goodbye to your mother, but I will be waiting for you outside to escort you to the anointing ceremony.' Njoki knew she had no other choice. When her grandmother spoke, people followed, even her.
'What about my cousins? Or even my grandaunt… your sister.' That stopped Waceke, who was already turning to walk away. Her glare intensified, and Njoki knew if her grandmother were a few years younger, she would have received a beating. But since she was old and fragile, she chose something worse than a beating.
'Don't be stupid, girl. Do you think my sister would let that seat go? Or your cousins? You and I would end up dead so that they would remain in power, and the clan would forever be theirs. Is that what you want? To let go of everything your mother and I have fought and sacrificed for?' Her voice was harsher than usual, and it shook as she spoke.
'No, grandmother.'
'Then stop behaving like a child. Your mother spoiled you, but that's because she thought she would live long enough for you to mature on your own. She is now dead, and you have to grow up.' She then turned and began to walk away. However, she stopped halfway out of the hall. 'Don't take long. It's a bad sign to be late for your anointing ceremony.' Njoki nodded and watched as the once-powerful warrior walked away slowly.
Njoki felt tears fall from her eyes. She knew that her grandmother was right; it was her responsibility to rule, and she couldn't run away from that. She stared at Anajiru's statue, imagined herself as her, a lion headdress on her head and a spear and a shield in her hands. It strangely made her feel strong. When she looked at the rest of her ancestors, she wasn't alone. If they were with her, what was she afraid of?
She found her grandmother waiting before a horse-drawn carriage. Horses were expensive, and only the highborn and a few other rich merchant families could afford to have them. Having a horse was a sign of wealth, and the carriage before her was drawn by four horses. It was then led by six well-trained guards on horseback, and another six following the carriage. A diviner that served the family was also there, riding next to the carriage, and so were twenty morans on foot. It was the ultimate show of power that the ruling family of the Anajiru clan had.
Thousands had assembled to cheer the new elder. Most were residents of the city of Suma, while others had travelled from villages all over the realm, and even Aka. Somehow, Njoki felt so small. The strength she had gathered began to fade away, almost as if her ancestors had left one by one until it was only her. Be strong, smile. Don't let them know how much pain and sorrow you are in. Don't let them know how weak you are.
She smiled and waved at the crowd, which began to cheer. The smile became so much that she strained to keep it on her face. Ululations then followed as people began to sing. Most were unsure about the young child who was to rule over them all. Was the clan of Anajiru getting weaker? Most had come to see if it was true. But the show of power seemed to wipe some of their doubts. The elephant clan still stands strong, Njoki thought as she entered the carriage.
Soon, they began to move from the huge, magnificent keep that was Njoki's family home and into the city. The ride was silent, as Njoki opted to look at the passing scenery of the city.
Suma, being the capital of Aka, made it the most diverse and largest city in all the realms. The architecture that the giants had built was still there. Tall buildings made of stone and marble reached up to the sky. It was said that the giants had aimed to reach the gods by building tall towers. Most of the taller towers had fallen. Yet those that had remained were still the tallest in the realm. There were also statues made by giants with amazing designs all over the city. A few man-made statues were also there, but they were never as magnificent as the giants.
The streets were filled with traders and people from all nine realms. It was noisy and full of activity. Human-made houses had also been built, supplementing the giants' architecture. With the growing population, the city continued to expand generation after generation.
Njoki stared at the residents who were in the streets, bargaining and buying things. She was now their ruler. Mothers older than her, diviners much stronger than her and sages much, much wiser than her were now her subjects. It felt odd, but it was the way of the world.
'People think that this is the downfall of our clan. The death of your mother is seen as a sign that the goddess has abandoned our clan. But I won't allow it, you shouldn't allow it.' Her grandmother then turned to glare at the world, at the many people looking at the carriage.
'I fear I will disappoint you and mother.' Njoki finally spoke the words she had been thinking ever since her mother's death.
'I also felt that I would disappoint my mother. I have lived a long life, and I don't remember much of it, but I still remember when my sister died. It was after a battle I had won against a rebel house. I tried to be brave, but I cried after I was told that, not because of my sister's death, but because I knew I had to leave the way of the spear for a life seated on a stool playing politics. Your great-grandmother had trained my sister since childhood to take over after her. And you should have seen the look of disappointment when she saw me return from war to be an elder. She grew sick and died in a few moons. She never taught me anything, and I had to learn everything on my own. But unlike me, I will be there for you, together with all the many lessons I have learnt over the years.' Strangely, that assured her.
'You never told me that.'
'That's because you were always with your mother. And I scared you.' She chuckled at that joke before looking outside. They were nearing the altar.
The rest of the ride was short and silent, which gave Njoki enough time to be ready for the ceremony. When the carriage stopped, her grandmother turned to her with her face even more serious. She then reached for her hand, making Njoki look up at her.
'Everyone out there has gathered to see the downfall of our clan. They laugh at us, mock us behind our backs while showing the widest of smiles. Who can blame them? An entire realm with hundreds of houses will be yours to command, and history has shown time and time again that when a child is given that much power will always end terribly. But they don't know you like I do. You have much to prove before they ever take you seriously, so make sure that they will regret having ever doubted you. Do you understand?' She nodded and watched in amusement as the woman she had once believed to be the coldest smiled before leaning in and kissing both her cheeks.
'You were created in nine moons, don't let them destroy you in one day,' she said as she pulled away and just in time for the door to be opened.
Njoki walked out only to find ten morans standing on either side of her, all prepared to die for her. Her family's diviner and sage stood on one side of her, and on the other side stood Waceke, her grandmother.
It was a show of power to the other clans and houses, to show that the mighty elephant clan still stood. But even with that, she became scared when she raised her eyes and was met by hundreds of other eyes, each belonging to an elder of a house or a clan. They were hardened warriors, experienced leaders, and most of them were thrice her age. She wanted to turn back and run away, maybe travel with the bards and griots like her mother had once done. But she somehow felt that running from your destiny needed more courage than being an elder.
Ignoring the many eyes on her, she began to walk towards the altar. The morans followed her, and it didn't feel right. Even though the warriors were a show of power, they were also a show of weakness for her, and that was the last thing she wanted. She quickly turned and gestured for them to stop and let her walk on her own. If she were the mighty elephant of the Anajiru clan, she didn't need morans accompanying her to an altar and had to do it by herself. She saw her grandmother smile, and Njoki knew she was doing the right thing.
She took her first step alone. Without the morans next to her, she found herself thinking of everything wrong with her that everyone could see. The dress was too loose. The braids were too tight. Her breasts were too small. Her hips too narrow. Her legs too short. The few pimples on her face too big. A drop of sweat trickled down her back, making her think of how visible her dress would show sweat. The blood of Mumbi runs through me. She chanted beneath her breath, and that made every bad thought and insecurity disappear as she walked confidently.
The altar was built around the biggest and oldest fig tree Njoki had ever seen, said to have been planted by Mumbi herself. It had no leaves on it, and the branches were so dry that Njoki wondered if the tree was alive. At its massive roots, the high priestess stood holding a fly whisk and a calabash of the sacred brew of Aka. It was finally happening, she would finally get to be an elder.
When she reached the high priestess, she knelt before her and let out a sigh of relief. She hadn't tripped or shown any sign of weakness. The high priestess was even older than her grandmother. She even smelled like it. Due to old age, she was blind. However, she was able to move with her divine magic, a testament to how powerful she was. Priestesses of the goddess were chosen from orders of diviners and sages, and on rare occasions, from the morans. They would devote their whole lives to being the avatars of the goddess to the living world until their death, when another high priestess was chosen.
People were disappointed that it was the high priestess and not Mumbi conducting the ceremony, which was why there were a lot of people. Usually, the one to conduct the anointing ceremony was the immortal founder of the empire. But for the past thousand years, she had never anointed even one of the descendants as she concentrated on preventing the doom that was prophesied would end Aka, which, after three thousand years, many people didn't care about. If it hadn't happened after all this time, would it ever happen?
Still, it was a huge privilege for very few elders were anointed by her. It was yet another testament to the power of the Anajiru clan, which her grandmother was responsible for.
The high priestess raised her flywhisk, and the chatter disappeared. Njoki looked up at the old woman who oozed power. If only I could command a room like her, she thought, and the old woman looked down at her as if she had heard her thoughts.
'When Mumbi won the war of a thousand years, she was tasked with an even harder task of healing Aka from the wounds and scars gained in the war. The land that was once one had been broken into nine pieces, which she gave to her daughters so that they could rule in her place, hence uniting the nine pieces. For hundreds of generations, descendants of the nine daughters have ensured that the age of daughters continues.' She turned to Njoki. 'Now, daughter of Anajiru, it's your turn. Do you accept this task?'
'Yes.' The woman sprayed her with anointing oil. 'Then rise, for now you are an elder among us, whose responsibility is to serve the goddess and to ensure her age continues.'
Njoki stood as cheers from all around the altar found their way to her ears. The high priestess, however, raised her hand once again, and silence followed. She then handed the calabash with the mead, which Njoki drank in one bitter gulp. When she was done, she felt a little tipsy but strangely more powerful. No wonder her grandmother was always drinking it. The high priestess then handed her the fly whisk, which Njoki realized was now hers, a symbol of her power. She took it, though her hands shook, for the flywhisk felt heavier than anything she had ever held, for only elders could wield a flywhisk.
When she finally took it, she heard her grandmother ululate, and then the rest followed with cheers and songs. Njoki turned and with the courage of a hundred morans, she faced the crowd. They had expected to see the end of her clan, but she was going to give them a reason to respect her clan.
She was now aware that most of the smiles she saw on the highborn faces were fake. Some hid jealousy, for the Anajiru clan was the most powerful of all. Others hid hatred, for a powerful clan or house always had enemies. But none mattered to Njoki for when she raised her flywhisk, she saw everyone give a slight bow, even her grandmother. This is power.
'Long live the clans.' She shouted, her soft voice echoing all through the altar.
'Long live the clans.' Everyone responded.
'Long live Aka.'
'And the age of daughters.' They responded, and then music drowned out the chatter that had begun. Everyone was excited for a new elder had been anointed.
The song of her clan played as she walked down the altar and out of it. Her heart beat fast, and the strength she had disappeared once she was alone in the carriage. She felt the sudden urge to vomit, but she fought against it, especially when her grandmother walked into the carriage. The highborn attendants of the ceremony were already walking out, each talking about the ceremony while plotting, as that was part of being highborn.
However, among them were those who were higher than the stupid politics and schemes that the houses were always playing, and those were the elders of the other eight clans. The eight other women were part of the council of elders, which she was heading to, as the customs dictated that immediately after being anointed, an elder joins the others in the council. In a few moments, she would be with them. And that made her just as scared as going to war, for she was about to be in a room with the eight of the most powerful women in all of the nine realms of Aka.
'Be ready, you enter into a den of liars. Don't trust anyone, no matter how sweet their words are. Don't decide without informing me, that is, until you are ready.' Her grandmother told her.
'I thought the council is made up of the wisest women in Aka. Shouldn't I trust them?' There was silence, as her grandmother's eyes widened before suddenly, she broke into laughter. When she began coughing, she stopped laughing, but her eyes showed how amused she was by her granddaughter's naivety.
'Oh no! You can try and dress a hyena in beautiful clothes, but it is still a hyena, greedy and selfish. Every one of them hides their true intentions in their smiles and words, in their promises and honour, but they are still hyenas.'
'Even mother?' Njoki asked. The question made her grandmother sigh, and gently, she held her hand and leaned towards her.
'It's the song we dance to, and we have no choice. The song of power is seductive, and when it has you dancing to its rhythm, it never lets go. Still, you will realise that even with all that power, there is little you can do, and all you can do is learn the rules. Watch and learn how they play their politics and games of the council, and when you finally do, only then will you understand your mother and me, even the other elders.' Njoki was silent. Her grandmother's words had scared her. Could she be like those women? Was her mother one of those women?
'They will want to befriend you, make offers to you.' Wacheke continued. 'They will say they want to help, but all they want is to devour you and our clan. So be ready. Smile, and hide your true intentions. Your needs and wants are yours, but when they are known to everyone else, they will find a way to manipulate you, and you will lose. Don't make friends with either of them, for only those we love and trust can betray us.' She paused when she saw Njoki's face. 'I think the lessons are enough for now, you are already scared.' Her grandmother chuckled as Njoki continued to stare outside, her mind elsewhere.
As she looked outside, she saw that they were passing through the Eastern parts of the city. The smell made her feel close to vomiting. This was where the poor and lower classes lived, in shanty houses that moved with the gentle wind and couldn't survive a more powerful wind. Sewage and dirt were all over. Dirty dogs and flies were all over. She saw a naked child fighting for a dirty piece of meat with a dog. And more and more sights of poverty and suffering were all over. Her heart ached, and sympathy filled her. If only I could do something. A smile appeared on her lips. Of course, she could do something.
'I want to help them,' she naively told her grandmother. Her grandmother looked at her once again, amused by her words.
'Of course. But you will realise you can't.'
'Then why am I even an elder? Isn't it to help them?'
'How innocent and pure you are. And naive too. Oh, the other elders will swallow you whole.' She then let out a humourless chuckle, before turning to look at Njoki. 'Listen, I love how enthusiastic you are about helping people, and even if you are genuinely, it will be hard for you. The council of elders serves itself, the highborn and their interests. It only cares about the people when its interests are aligned with the people's.'
'I will still try.' Her grandmother didn't respond. She seemed deep in thought, but there was fear in her eyes that Njoki had noticed. Was it because of her? Did she fear for me? But the silence ended when her grandmother spoke, and the words tore through her soul.
'One of the elders killed your mother.' Njoki was suddenly hit by many emotions, but anger was what she felt most. She could feel her grandmother's eyes on her, weighing and seeing how she was reacting. Her hands trembled, and she didn't know whether it was anger or fear. Maybe it was both. Her eyes began to well with tears, and she let them flow. Angrily, she turned to her grandmother.
'Why did you tell me that?'
'Because it's the truth. And I want you to be aware of what kind of people you will be dealing with. I know that one of them killed your mother so that you would take over, thinking that our clan would be weak and they could attack. Your goal from now on isn't to help the poor, it's to find out who killed my daughter, and together, we will destroy them.' Njoki found herself nodding. Suddenly, all her pure intentions of helping the poor and unfortunate were forgotten for a moment. Only revenge mattered to her. Her grandmother had opened her eyes, and she could see the world for what it truly was.
'What do we do? How do we capture my mother's killer?'
'By doing nothing, for now. Join the council of elders, smile at them, learn to play their politics, but behind your smile, you will be looking for your mother's killer.'
'Th… That might start the seventh clan war, the doom.'
'Ah! Every generation thinks they will start the doom, but three thousand years later, Aka is still here.' Just as her grandmother finished speaking, the carriage came to a stop before the huge and expansive council tower built by the giants. She wiped the tears from her eyes and face, turned to her grandmother, and when she approved, Njoki walked out of the carriage.
She hardly noticed the crowd of people that had assembled to welcome her. But she waved at them, smiling. It felt like she had become a different person while her true self hid and watched. She was soon standing next to the door to the council tower. She turned back and saw her grandmother standing outside with difficulty, especially among the crowd. The guards that surrounded her, pushing people from her, made Njoki realise that one person was missing, the diviner.
'I'm here to protect you.' Her voice made her turn to her side. How had she not seen her? Her name was Nyanchoka, an orphan whom her grandmother had discovered during the last war against the Anjera clan. She was one of the most powerful diviners in Aka, or so her grandmother claimed, but she knew to trust her when it came to matters of power and strength.
'Do I need your protection? Even here?' Njoki glanced at the wide hall that she could see through the open door.
'Especially here. Your grandmother has told me everything about your mother, and I won't let anyone hurt you,' Nyanchoka said.
'Are you even allowed here?'
'I used to escort your grandmother in her later days, before your mother took over. A diviner is allowed in, but not a moran.' Njoki only nodded, her anger a reminder that her mother had been killed by one of the people she would spend most of her time with.
'You have been in there, is there a piece of advice you can give me?'
'Listen to your grandmother.' Njoki only nodded as she heard footsteps approaching. She readied herself, and her smile that hid her true intentions. However, she was met by a wider smile, and the most beautiful and graceful of women.
The woman stopped just before her, her perfume strong and sweet but not suffocating. She leaned in and kissed both her cheeks as was the customary greeting. Njoki's smile began to crack when she imagined that the woman before might be the one who killed her mother. But she regained her composure, and she widened her smile to match that of the woman before her.
'I welcome you to the council of elders. They really should change that name, you are so young.' The woman joked. Njoki could feel the hostility in that joking and sweet tone, which was expected. Aka's society was arranged in age sets, and there was a hierarchy to it with the oldest being the most superior. Njoki was from the youngest age set, and yet, she was an elder with equal and maybe even more power than those from the older age sets.
Njoki turned her attention to the elder's dress. It was brown, but had patterns of green all over her dress. She had a shaved head, and wore the largest gold earrings that were almost as big as her head. She was lean, and had the longest neck Njoki had ever seen. But the most mesmerizing part about her was her dark, smooth and most beautiful skin. She had the features of women from the Athaga clan, meaning she was…
'My name is Wanja, the Athaga elder.' Her voice was so perfect, too perfect, like everything else about her. Njoki was aware she was turning fifty years old in a few moons. And yet, she seemed half her age with only a few wrinkles around her eyes betraying the many seasons she had seen.
'Njoki, elder of the Anajiru clan.'
'That I know, I was just at your anointing ceremony.'
'Obviously.' Njoki tried to match Wanja's aggressive yet sweet tone but it came out cruel. There was a lot to learn.
'Well, let's not keep the others waiting. They get moody when the meeting lasts too long.' She then chuckled sweetly as she led her into the tower. Nyanchoka followed a few steps behind, but the fear and tension grew as they neared the council hut.
One of them killed my mother, what if they kill me too?