Sekai looked lovingly at her bulging stomach and patted it tenderly as she lay on the mat. She smiled happily to herself. Although she was the first of Baba Makwati's wives and his favourite, this was her first pregnancy in nine years.
"At last!" she whispered to herself. "The ancestors have granted my greatest wish. Now the other wives will give me the respect due to my position as senior wife. And my in-laws will stop telling my husband to send me back to my people. I'm sure this will be a man-child, the first born male for my husband. It will make him so happy he will love me more than before! "
Suddenly, Sekai felt dizzy and her mouth filled with saliva. She scrambled to her feet, quickly wrapped her 'gudza' (blanket voven from black fiber) around her waist, and rushed from the hut as a feeling of nausea rose in her stomach. With one hand she clutched her stomach and with the other covered her mouth as she ran behind the hut to vomit.
Dadirai, the third wife and Rumbidzai the fourth and youngest wife, saw Sekai vomiting.
"Amia Chipo, (mother of Chipo) how many calves has that old cow of yours given you in the last four years?" asked Rumbidzai spitefully.
"Oh it has produced three in four years, Amai Tukai, (mother of Tukai)" replied Dadirai loudly enough for Sekai to hear. "And your goat which Baba Makwati gave you, how many many kids has she given you?" she continued.
"I've had her for just two years now and she has produced two kids and is expecting again."
"What?" exclaimed Dadirai in mock surprise. "I hope what she's carrying this time is a real kid and not a monster. That can happen you know? If an evil spirit gets into an old goat", and she trembled in mock horror.
Sekai pretended that she was not aware that he co-wives were making cruel fun of her but they would not let her rest. "Some people," said Amai Chipo, "will do anything to keep a man. I am sure that any cow which failed to produce in nine years would have been killed and eaten long ago." She paused, then went on addressing her veiled remarks more directly to Sekai, "Only a witch could keep a man for so long without giving him a child."
Dadirai took her watering calabash and called Rumbidzai to accompany her to the stream. Sekai remained alone because her friend Pindai, the second wife, was in the fields. When the feeling of discomfort passed, Sekai swept her huts and tidied the area around them and her granary. Just before sunset, Pindai returned from the fields with her two children, Pamidzai, aged six and Netsai aged four. They loved Sekai who in turn treated them like her own.
That evening when Makwati's wives took their food to him at the 'dare', (court) he was engaged in a strong argument. He tasted some from each dish but ate all that Sekai brought. She was delighted; but Rumbidzai, the youngest wife who wanted to be the favourite, was very angry. However, she dared not show her true feelings to their husband. On the way back home, Rumbidzai began to sing:
"Our fields have been ploughed
The seeds have been sown
They sprouted and blossomed,
We three have reaped ours;
Our lord held the produce
In his own very hands.
He has ploughed, he has eaten
From all of our fields
But what has he taken
From that barren plot?
Sh-sh-sh-sh, Sekai," said Pindai, the second wife. "Do not reply that mamba. She is just jealous."
"You're right my friend," replied Sekai, "but what can you expect when your husband brings a child into the home without consulting us senior wives?"
When the wives returned to the compound; each busied herself with final preparations for the night. The three mothers washed their small children and then themselves. Sekai prepared herself. As the daylight faded, soft moonlight slowly flooded the compound. She make a fire outside her hut where she and Pindai sat and chatted. Strangely there was no jealousy between these two. Pindai was satisfied with Makwati's affection and happy with her children. She was genuinely fond of Sekai and sad at her long period of barrenness. She therefore, did not begrudge Makwati's strong and abiding love. Now she rejoiced with Sekai at her pregnancy.
"Those two are afraid you will have a son who will take all our husband's love and affection" said Pindai. "They believe you have given him strong love potions to have him love you so much."
"They're evil," replied Sekai. "I wish Makwati will send me to my people at this time. Having those two around me may cause my so to be affected in a bad way. But Makwati wants me here a the time". Don't worry," Pindai reassured her, "I and ambuya Nzara(grandmother Nzara) will look after you. Are you afraid, my sister?"
Sekai was silent for a while as she tried to form words around her deepest fears.
"Yes, Pandai, I am afraid..... Who knows what the womb carries? Now I know how wonderful it feels to be carrying a baby inside my body. But it is so frightening not to know exactly what it really looks like. Is it a boy or a girl; normal or different? But worst of all is it a person? I've heard of women who gave birth to strange creatures."
" That won't happen to you, my sister. There are no witches in this village.
The two women continued to talk a while longer. But soon Pandai, who was tired from a hard day in the fields yawned, said good night and retired to her hut. Sekai, left with no one to chat with, sat by the fire for some time after Pandai had gone to bed. She was a jolly soul. Usually full of fun and laughter. However, the fact of her childlessness had always tempered with her mirth. She loved children but the two younger wives did not trust her and resented it when Sekai tried to be friendly to their children. They feared that she would 'steal' their children's affection or worse still, bewitch them.
There had been times Sekai had been weighed down by sadness that not even her natural cheerfulness could overcome. Such moods were sometimes caused by unkind remarks she sometimes overheard ; at other times, the way Makwati looked at her. At such times, she thought she could detect disappointment, impatience, even resentment toward her, in his eyes.
But since her pregnancy, most of her sad moods had lifted. Now she was wrapped more closely in Makwati's warm love. So, sitting there by fire, thinking fondly of her son and her husband, Sekai was gradually lulled into a doze by the cozy warmth. Drowsily she arose, put out the fire and went into her hut.
That night Makwati visited Sekai. She felt especially content as he lay beside her while they talked. Suddenly the foetus began moving. Excitedly, Sekai took Makwati's right hand and placed it on her abdomen
"Ha! , but that is a strong son!" said Makwati with wonder as he felt the vigorous movement. And his wife could hear the pride in the rumble of his deep voice.
"It could be a girl," she suggested, half seriously.
"What are you saying, woman?" asked Makwati sharply; and Sekai detected a not worry in his voice this time. "We have more than enough women in this compound already. I am longing for a son!"
He stopped talking and, in the thick darkness of the hut, Sekai could hear her husband's steady breathing. She turned on her left side facing him and let her right palm travel from his slim waist to his broad chest. There she allowed it to linger on the spear wound among the rolled up hairiness.
"Have no fear, my husband. I am sure our child will be a man-child and that he will be as big and powerful as you, his father." She paused then continued "Are you pleased with me now, my husband?"
For an answer Makwati slipped his powerful right arm under Sekai's head, pulled her close to him and said:
Are you not my first and true love? Has not your shame been my shame? Have I not stood between my parents and you all these years?"
"Yes I know how you have resisted you parents' demands all these years for you to send me back to my people, since I had no sister to share your mat. Thank you for covering my shame." And Sekai snuggled closer to her husband under the zebra skin. Towards morning, Makwati arose and returned to his hut.
Morning broke, Sekai awoke. She was as happy as the birds singing to welcome the new day. Makwati was still I love with her and now she was carrying his son. At twenty five, she was still youthful in figure as this was her first pregnancy. This morning she resisted the force of habit to rise early and go to the fields. After all, she had no children and worked hard enough all these years. She could allow the sun to rise before her this morning. With the baby moving inside, she felt fulfilled.... Content. She lay on her back, her hands clasped across her stomach. She wondered what it would be like to have a baby suckling at her breasts; she wondered about a lot of other intimate things. But most of all she imagined how the other co-wives - all younger than herself - would react to her having the first man-child in the family. Sekai smiled as she drifted off to sleep again.
When Sekai opened her eyes again, the sun was well up in the heavens. She realised this from the light glowing around the edges of the door and under the thatch of the roof. She could hear the hens clucking to their chickens or making provocative mating calls to the roosters; the bleating of the goats calling their wayward kids, and the bawling of cattle being led out to pasture. She arose, wrapped her cloth around her and opened the door. Brilliant sunshine rushed in chasing the darkness out of the hut. Stubbornly it clung to the walls like an unwelcome visitor unwilling to leave. Sekai stepped out into the warm morning air and breathed deeply of its freshness.