Chapter Thirty-Five: The Festival

It took the Mai, Abdou, Hayah, and their whole party three full days on horseback to reach Shani. It was a very large town, almost as large as Dikwa. In fact, it was the second largest town in Kanem-Borno Empire. The town was made up of mostly the Dera tribe, indigenous to Kanem-Borno, and almost as numerous as the Kanuri.

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The Menwara festival usually offered the Mai of Kanem-Borno and the Emir of Shani the opportunity to consult, shower blessings on, and spread, the message of peace among the diverse cultures of the Empire attending the festival.

The festival was to be held the next day, so they were taken to their various comfortable accommodations, each man according to his status. Hayah couldn't sleep at all. As he lay in bed, he wondered if his family had escaped unharmed. He would know by morning before making his own move.

The next day, at the Menwara festival, the Mai and his party were all seated at an elevated section of the well-decorated town square. The festivities were in high gear and Hayah could have enjoyed them if he wasn’t so nervous. He was waiting for the signal that would let him know everything went according to plan. For the strategic man that he was, he had taken the extra precaution to arrange for one of his men to come over to Shani, after his family might had left Dikwa, to let him know the situation of things. If everything worked according to plan, the man was to pass him a blue piece of cloth; but if something went wrong, he was to pass him a red piece of cloth. It was almost noon and no piece of cloth had been passed to him yet. He was worried.

“The Mai would like to know if everything is alright Allah Nguuro. He thought you don’t look well.” A messenger asked him.

“Tell him that I just have a little headache, thank you.”

The messenger relayed the message back to the Mai before returning once more. “The Mai wishes you good health, Allah Nguuro.”

“Amin. Please thank His Majesty for me.”

The Menwara festival at Shani gave the many ethnic groups in Kanem-Borno the chance to present their cultural dances and attires every year. It was always a delight to watch, attracting foreigners from Niger, Sudan, Sokoto, and several adjoining Kingdoms. On the first day of the festival, there were dances from ten different groups. The Kanuri ethnic group made the first presentation. Their performance was made by women with robust backsides costumed in matching wrappers, tight tops, and large head ties. They wrapped large matching veils around their waists and buttocks, which they held and spread out as they wiggled their waists and buttocks in unison, while dancing. The upper part of their bodies would remained still as they danced and sang, but every now and then, they turned their heads from side to side as if in salutation. The dance was easy on the eye, but it took years of practice to master the elegant and seductive moves. After the first presentation, other ethnic groups followed with equally flamboyant dresses and entertaining dances that revved up the crowd.

The dances were occasionally interjected with other forms of entertainment by fire-breathers and knife throwers. Their awe-inspiring performances were not for the faint of heart, though. It was dangerous and exciting. Before and after each performance, the entertainers would go to pay homage in front of the exalted section where Rabbeh and the Chief of Shani were seated. The Mai always waved back and if he was satisfied with their performance, they got gifts.

Food was served to the Mai and then to all dignitaries seated around him. Everybody ate except Hayah. He was too nervous to eat anything. That didn’t go unnoticed by Rabbeh and Abdou. At noon, the festival went on a brief recess to allow for the Zuhr prayer. Afterwards, activities resumed.

More cultural dances followed and then the first day ended with a performance by hyena handlers. They performed death-defying stunts with the hyenas to resounding applause by appreciative spectators. Then, just before they finished their special act, they used woven raffia to cover the mouths of the hyenas and encouraged families in the crowd to bring out their children who wet the bed at night. They then rubbed the buttocks of the children on the covered mouths of the Hyenas. It was a long-held superstition that the children would be cured and they will never wet the bed again.

That night when everyone had retired to their sleeping quarters after the hustle and bustle of the day, Rabbeh invited Hayah to his room for dinner and to find out what was wrong.

“Nothing, Allah Nguuro, I was just feeling a little tired from the long journey, I guess. Maybe some rest will take care of it.”

“Well, I don’t want you to get sick, my friend. I need you beside me throughout this festival.”

Hayah almost felt sorry for him. Even though he hated Rabbeh for what he did to him, there was a part of him that still admired the man, he was about the only man that knew Rabbeh’s vulnerable side. He knew as soon as he leaves him, Rabbeh would be totally devastated and possibly may not be able to recover from the shock. The thought almost gave him a change of heart. But then he remembered his family and decided that it was necessary. “I will try Allah Nguuro.”

Rabbeh laughed. “I told you, you don’t have to refer to me as such when we are talking in private.”

“Well, it just kind of rolls off the tongue you know. I think I like it.” They both laughed.

The second day of the festival kicked off with wrestling matches. Most of the contestants were between the ages of fourteen and forty. Each represented either a tribe, or a town, or a private sponsor. It was another crowd favourite. There were lots of prizes to be won but most importantly, it was the honour bestowed on the winner and the entity they represented. Each match was usually between two opponents standing in the middle of the open square, bare-chested, their bodies drenched in vegetable oils, except for a small wrap of cloth around their loins.

Each contestant was a picture of raw fitness and masculinity – proud and arrogant.

“I am that cat whose ack never touches the ground.” The first guy boasted.

“I am the mighty Kuka tree whose roots are firmly rooted to the ground. No one can uproot me.” The other boasted as well.

After about ten minutes of slippery struggle, the cat’s back hit the ground, making his opponent the automatic winner. People cheered, women danced, and sang loudly to get his attention.

Though still nervous, Hayah had learned to fake a happy face in order not to draw too much attention to himself. On the inside, however, he was dying. He had no idea what was going on. He didn’t know if his family had escaped successfully or not. Dikwa was too far away, and even if they were successful, the message would take days to reach him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take the emotional torture.

As usual, by noon, they went and performed the Zuhr prayers. Then they listened to a sermon from the Imam of the mosque. As the chief Imam of the Empire, Hayah was also expected to preach a sermon and pray for the Kingdom, which he did. After that, as the Mai, Rabbeh also prayed for peace and prosperity of the Empire and entreated God Almighty to shower blessings on the people of the Empire. They then performed Asr prayers before going back to the square for more entertainment.

It was finally time for the coming-of-age ceremony to commence. Young boys and girls dressed to the nines came out in groups and greeted the Mai and then proceeded to the middle of the square to dance and showcase whatever talents they possessed, to earn the respect of peers and elders. In the case of the girls, it was to attract husbands. That year, there were twice as many girls as in the previous one; perhaps it had something to do with the new king being a bachelor. The spectacle continued until sunset, when everyone finally retired to their sleeping quarters.

That night, Hayah could not sleep. He was afraid that his family’s escape had been discovered that he almost decided to go back to Dikwa to see for himself. But he held himself in check, just in time, before he could do anything stupid. He decided that no matter what happened, he would face Rabbeh and face his death bravely. He would rather die as a traitor than a coward.

On the third and final day of the festival, a Kilisa was planned for the Mai of Kanem-Borno, Rabbeh. As usual, competitors from the different districts came with their prized horses and competed against each other. In between, there were other performances, including children and old people’s dances, and dwarf races.

Just before noon, someone passed Hayah a small blue piece of cloth, discreetly. That was the signal he had been waiting for. He let out a long breath of relief and silently thanked God in his heart. Then, suddenly, out of the blue, he started to cough and attracted a lot of attention to himself, in the process. A medicine man was brought in to attend to him, but he suggested that it would be better to go back to their lodgings to be treated in private. It wouldn’t be in the interest of the Empire’s ruling class to show a weakness of any kind to their subjects. Or would it? Rabbeh agreed.

But it wasn’t the lodgings he went back to. A horse was waiting for him just outside the square, which he immediately mounted. The medicine man was one of his men.

“Are you sure no one saw them?” he asked him.

“Allah rene, at this point, I am sure your family is out of Kanem-Borno.” The man replied.

“Did you pack enough food for them?”

“I can assure you that they have everything they need. Allah rene.”

“Thank you, Ali.”

“At your service, Allah Rene.” the man replied and they rode fast out of town.

Abdou waited for a few moments after Hayah left before excusing himself from his father’s presence, on the pretext of having a stomach upset, to go after Hayah.

“It must be something we ate.” he lied and then left to meet his own men, about twenty of them. His spies told him the road they saw Hayah had taken, and he gave chase. Abdou and his men pursued Hayah for about half an hour before catching up with him not too far away from town.

He called Hayah a coward and ordered him to go back to Rabbeh and face his challenges. An argument ensued and without warning, it snowballed into a fight. Hayah’s men were courageous battle-proven soldiers, but Abdou had thrice their number armed with rifles. Hayah’s men were defenseless when they started shooting at them. Realizing the hopelessness of the situation, they quickly formed a protective circle around their master and swore to protect him with their lives as men of honour. They were shot down one after the other until only Hayah was left and even he took two bullets in the stomach. But the man stood bravely, betraying no pain.

“Surrender, old man and I will show you mercy.” Abdou teased.

“Never!”

“Look around, you have been defeated, you fool. Surrender and go back to my father and confess your treachery and cowardice.”

” I am not and will never be a coward. Why don’t you show me how brave you are and fight me like a man?” Hayah dared him.

Abdou accepted the challenge, knowing that he had already put two bullets through him. He expected an easy fight. This was his moment to humiliate the man, as he had always wanted. But to his surprise, Hayah gave him the fight of his life. And just as it looked like Hayah was getting the upper hand, the bullet wounds began to hurt. Added to a massive loss of blood, he grew weaker and weaker. Abdou dealt him a fatal blow, half expecting Hayah to block as he always did. Unfortunately, Hayah was too weak to move as fast as he would have, and the sword went straight into his chest.

[End of Chapter Thirty-Five]

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