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Heavy responsibilities for elder aunt among the Logooli

With Seenge Fonesi. She is the elder grand daughter of Isagi and elder daughter of Amugasya. She is often present in functions involving the family of Amugasya. Pic taken on 18/4/2024. The elder sister soon becomes the elder aunt. It is this “seenge munene” (elder aunt) tag that she is tied to many cultural responsibilities – back home. To her marital family she may appear as any other woman, but she is not so in the eyes of her people. Marriage does not steal her away as it would happen with other daughters of the old man. To her, as days go and the old man and woman of the estate are dependents, she becomes increasingly present.  Her brothers also need her for almost all traditional markings. They are marrying, she needs to welcome the new wife. They are giving birth, she needs to come to midwife or “bless” the new born. They are paying dowry she needs to lead the women delegate. There is a conflict she needs to come for a hearing.  And many others. Traditions does not expect her to
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Planting cassava

Scientifically you are supposed to identity a non poisonous edible variety, prepare land and on planting you space appropriately. Control weeds and pests. Wait for a period of about 9-10 months depending on variety before harvest. You can go ahead to find excuses as climate and soil variety for either good or poor harvest.

Traditionally, you are required to consider more than that. There are more important considerations.

You need to know if your hand is of luck. If your blood attracts productivity.  If you did the right things all through from land preparation, planting, growing till harvesting.

A virgin land is good for cassava as is good for sweet potatoes. You are required to take your time and remove weeds in preparation. Loosen the soil. Let it for a few days. Be home and prepare planting a sooner day.

You will have gone to a friend whose stems and tubers are said to be good or you have witnessed a bumper harvest. You will not be the one to cut the stems. The owner should. You do not just enter people's farms!

You, a woman who does not go to the river only for your man's bath water and cooking but also for your in-laws and any other person who deserves respect at home, you will have been told that you should take this and that stick, sprinkle this and that mixture on the stems, let them rest for the night and wake up early morning, ready.

You will wish not to meet anyone on the path and if you do let it be the gender of your first born. Else you could as well return home and plant another day. You will have avoided a morning meal and any other tasks as cleaning the cows' pen or sweeping. You will come for them later as the sun will be hardening. You should also have told your husband the task ahead. And with great respect, went to the other wife or kept off if it is you alone he saw in the world. With a swinging hip and a steady stride you arrive at your piece of land, sweet smelling from virginity of soil and morning dew.

You say a few words. If there is any bad blood that walked there in the night, any sin with you, any bad eye that shall land on the young stems to be defeated in the holy protection of one's ancestors. You start planting. You can do a planting hymn in the rising sun, could be wishing your sleepy drunkard husband some sense and remembering your hardworking brother who recently married the weakest and laziest of the girls. You remember to plant the 'stick' as you finish the work and go back home for a series of tasks. One among is to wake a sleeping daughter and admonishing her about the importance of hard work or else her house will be of hunger and unhappiness. A boy would learn hardwork and importance of being earnest by tantrums from others and fights while grazing and playing.

Months. Almost a year. All time patient. Moons come and vanish. The fertility of the farm exhibited by weeds and wide green-reddening of the leaves. The girl your brother married used as a calendar. The cassava is almost ready when the first boy is born. The cassava is very ready when the child starts crawling and walking, de de de.

You do not send a child to harvest for you as the lazy do. Ha! How now? They send the child, the hungry child sees the huge of the most corns. He cuts them for roasting. Hides some. You end up with the small ones for seeds and home use. A wise one does not do that. She can tell her cut. She knows what will serve as seedcorn. Cause the best make the best seed. Here, the protruding potatoes or cassava can be harvested using a digging stick. Randomly as observed. Moles can be identified but because it was not a small area of planting, they cannot finish! The repellent plant and a trap somewhere (not in the very kibwoni!) well present too just for hope.

Matured, days after days, on convenience, she harvests her cassava. Sometimes children eat at the farm. Sometimes she cooks them for breakfast, sometimes for lunch, sometimes mashed with bananas and beans, sometimes dried for flour. Greatly to supply the husband/father in law with what he roasts at choterero, every morning as he teaches her son the ways of the old. Ah, her house never lacks, season from season she feeds her visitors - she does not  hide in words (but exclaims, 'how unending is the harvest') and when the husband is about to part with a visitor she says, 'you should have waited we make something in the kitchen'. Oh no, I am well, I will come back. Of cause the relative may come back but he knows the mantle of the mukana. And days go by and the brothers child matures...ready to visit senge!

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