A wracking sob escaped her throat as she covered her face with her hands and fell forwards in the dust at Makwati's feet. Makwati looked at Sekai in horrified disbelief.
"Without skin, 'sope'? That I do not understand. How can it be? Speak woman! What have you brought to our village? It you speak the truth, where is the child? It is either the work of witchcraft, or the curse of the ancestors. Why is it still with us?"
The questions flew so fast from his lips, that even if Sekai knew the answers and was disposed to provide them, she had no time to do so. At last, in the silence that followed the stream of questions, she whispered through her tears:
" My Lord, I cannot say whether our son has been bewitched or cursed from my womb but he is still with us because I desired it to be so." She paused, then in a low voice charged with emotions and tears, she continued :
"He is my first born for whom I have waited these many years, I could not bear to lose him my husband. If you do not want him, then send be back to my people or into the forest but do not force me to part from this our son."
She had risen again to a kneeling position. Makwati resisted the desire to reach out touch the woman he loved above all others. Instead he said;
" We will let the matter wait until we all see him. Then we will ask the elders to decide what shall be done with him."
Abruptly, he rose and walked away from his wife still kneeling in the dust.
Although Makwati had promised to let the matter rest until he was allowed to see the baby, he had been too disturbed by Sakai's news to do so. His curiosity was to powerful to be held in check for a few days. He went in search of Ambuya Tukai. He found the old mid wife sitting on a mat baside her sleeping hut in the warm afternoon sunshine.
"Good afternoon, grandmother. How have you spent your day?"
"Good afternoon, my son. I have spent it well, if you have had a good day."
"I have spent it well, grandmother."
After exchanging greetings, Makwati sat on a log which Ambuya Tukai's husband had used as his seat many years ago. The old widow waited for Makwati to speak. When he did not do so after a reasonable time, Ambuya Tukai said:
" I can see that something is on you head, my son. 'To think secretly is like the journey of a dog'. Can I be of help?"
Makwati grunted, glad that the old woman had provided an opening.
"It is about my son, grandmother."
"What do you wish to know, my son?" she asked gently.
"Sekai told me he is without skin, grandmother. How can it be? 'It is the nature of the duiker to produce young that have tuft of hair on the head' , is it not?"
Now it was Ambuya Tukai's turn to remain silent. There was great sadness in the faded old eyes that looked at Makwati, for he knew how much he desired to have a son. Then the old woman spoke.
" I do not think the child is without a skin, my son. His skin is like...." and her Ambuya Tukai paused, searching for the right image, then she continued, "like a young bean plant that has taken root in the granary or like a newly ripe orange. His hair hair is like yours, only it is of a different colour, like pale honey. Yes, he is strange, different from the rest of us. But he is more like you than different from you."
" Ambuya, I hear your word but my ears are heavy and I do not understand some of them. Why is my son like me yet so different? Was my wife bewitched or the ancestors are angry with me for keeping a barren woman?"
" My son, that I do not know. But perhaps Baba Zviyedzo can help you.
Baba Zviyedzo was the best known 'n' anga' (herbalist/spiritual healer) in the seven villages of the area. He was knowledgeable about where to find very rare medicinal plants and skilled in the use of their roots, bark and leaves. But, perhaps more important, Baba Zviyedzo was an expert in understanding people. He was quick to track down what bothered their minds and what helped to make them sick. And he knew how to remove the worry from their minds and make them well again.
"I hear you, grandmother and I think you are right. But my head is still heavy because of my son. You say his appearance is like young plants growing in the granary. When such plants are put outside to grow in the sunlight they become like others of their kind. Tell me, Ambuya, do you believe that my son will be like me after he comes out in the sunlight?"
The pain in Makwati's mind communicated itself to the sensitive old woman and like him, she wept inside. What would she have done with a son such as this baby? A groan of sympathetic anguish escaped through her nostrils.
" My son, in this villages, I have helped to bring many children into this world but never have I seen one like your son. My teacher spoke of one like him that she had heard of, but even she had not seen that strange child. So what you say may be possible. Only the passing seasons will have the answer, my son."
Makwati clutched at the slight hope that the old woman's words had offered. However, he was not cheered. He prepared to leave.
" 'Tatenda, Ambuya.' " (thank you, grandmother) You helped my head to see this thing better. Now I must go. I have to prepare for a journey to Baba Zviyedzo's kraal tomorrow."
" But, my son, are you forgetting that since the child is with us, the elders must meet to decide what to do before you go see Baba Zviyedzo?"
Indeed, in his anxiety Makwati had forgotten the part the elders had to play in the matter. Sadly he returned to his compound to wait for further developments.