When one is waiting anxiously for something, time seems to move slowly like a pangolin. For Sekai the days of her waiting passed no faster than that. In the last month of her pregnancy, Makwati forbade her to go to the fields or do any heavy work. However, she still had to fetch water from the stream about three kilometres away; and she still had to perform her regular household tasks. He friend and co wife, Pindai helped her to prepare several 'gudzas' (fiber blankets) for the expected baby. Pindai help Sekai to make some more vessels such as calabash dishes. But mostly, Sekai waited and daydreamer. At that stage she could only imagine the physical pains and joys of motherhood. Of course she had listened to the other wives' vivid stories of birth pangs. But one cannot really share someone else's pains if one has never suffered something similar. Nor can one truly understand another's joy unless one has also experienced a similar happy event.
Next to Pindai, Amai Pedzisai(Pedzisai's mother) was Sekai's best friend. She was about five years older than Sekai. They often went to the fields together or to the stream to fetch water. In the evenings they sometimes sat by the fire and talked until they were ready to sleep. So, when Sekai felt it was time for the birth of her firstborn, she went in search of Pedzisai. That day the other wives and their children were in the fields. Baba Makwati was with the other men of the village and in any case, the birth of a child was not a man's concern.
Normally one's thoughts are not punctuated like sentences. However at this time Sekai's were. The flow of thoughts crowding through her mind was punctuated by stabbings of pain. At first they caused irregular pauses like the stops at the end of long sentences. But as time went on, theu became briefer and more frequent. Sekai had never experienced such pain before. Once a large torn had broken in her foot and had made a festering wound that had caused a throbbing hurt for three days. On another occasion, a broken tooth had ached. That had been worse than the pain in her foot. But this pain of childbirth - mai we-e! It surpassed them both! The was nothing in her experience to compare it with. This pain was great and terrible but it was in a strange way, ecstatic. It also held the promise of life and love. And those would be worth any suffering.
Sekai had waited so long and prayed fervently for this baby that she could endure any discomfort, any pain as the price for receiving him into her empty arms and, up to now, meaningless life.
Sooner than seemed possible Pedzisai returned with the midwife, ambuya Tukai (Grandmother Tukai). She brought her assistant ambuya Shungu(grandmother Shungu) because she thought that this might be a difficult case. As events turned out, she was right. The shadows of evening lengthened, and then thickened into darkness but the baby would not arrive. A flickering fire inside the hut imparted an eerie quality to those seated there as their shadowy forms cast dancing, grotesque shapes on the wall. As the hours of waiting dragged on, expectancy gave way to worry. Droplets of sweats formed on Sekai's brow, linked and tumbled down her face. They joined others waiting on her chest, her back, her belly and soon she was washed in the sweat of labour. Grunts turned into gasps, gasps became groans and soon Sekai was screaming in agony. She wanted to get up and run but they held her. Then ambuya Tukai said,
"Help her to stand and let her walk".
They walked her out of the hut and into the surrounding night. They walked until she was scarcely able to stand, yet the baby would not come. Then they returned to the hut and there, in the early hours of the morning, the baby arrived. Ambuya Tukai lifted the infant, examined it and announced:
"It's a man-child!"
He was as exhausted as his mother. His weak cry was almost immediately followed by ululation announcing the arrival of a man child. Makwati, who was waiting anxiously by the door of his hut was filled with joy and pride. At last he had a son. Silently, he did a dance of celebration which only his dog and the stars witnessed.
Newly born infants are usually much lighter in complexion than their parents. However, even in the dim firelight, this baby was too light. Ambuya Tukai looked closely at the baby lying in his mother's arms. She nudged ambuya Shungu, pointed to the baby and whispered:
The baby is 'musope' (albino). We have to destroy him!"
As she looked at the mother and child, Ambuya Shungu's heart was touched and replied,
"Are you sure? Not now; let it be tomorrow night. Allow Sekai to feel a mother's joy even for a few hours."
Sekai was too exhausted by her labour to notice anything unusual about her precious son. For the present the joyous wonder of a new motherhood filled her. It was a feeling like none other. SHE had created this new human being, this man-child. SHE has molded him, shaped him in HER body and carried him there these many months. Now he was HERS ; hers to have and love. Had he not save her from the ridicule and scorn of her co-wives? And had he not restored her in the esteem of her in-laws? Yes, this man-child would lift up her head and restore her position in the village.... And Sekai drifted off to sleep hugging her son, wrapping him in pleasant dreams close to her heart. In his hut, Makwati felt like a real man among men. He had a son! The prospects and possibilities were so exciting that he could not return to sleep. At last he had a son, a man-child to carry his name and help fulfill his dreams. To be a great hunter, perhaps a mighty warrior. And of course, to sit in the 'dare' and swap tales of daring with other men.