The masaai way - Jomo MUSIAKI

Let me introduce Jomo. The proudest man I have ever met. Tall, muscular and rangy, this Masaai warrior always dresses in a red, almost tartan, wrap around robe, multicoloured neck beads and has huge holes in his ear lobes, so much so that he can, and does, take the bottom of his ear and loop it over the top. Its bizarre to look at, but how proud of it he is.

I asked him not so long ago how old he was, he turned down the corners of his mouth and shook his head a little, don’t know for sure, maybe 30 or 50 he replied. I smiled, he was serious, somewhere between the two seemed enough.

I had engineered a meeting with Jomo for the sole purpose of trying to understand the Masaai way. I was wanting to do some fair trade business with a group of them but that would entail passing all the criteria to form a fair trade co-operative. Understanding them was the first step.

They seemed so different from other tribes in Africa, more akin to the Zulus I had met in Swaziland and yet different. It was a barmy late September evening when I sat Jomo down at Masaai Mara game lodge, overlooking the Mara river. One of my favourite spots in Kenya, if not in the world, and the only place I know that I can be safely serenaded to sleep by the sound of hippo’s snoring. Its majestic, their lilting and rhythmical snoring is guaranteed to thwart any insomniac.

Jomo lived in a small village within the reserve, a scattering of some 10 boma’s . He was completely uneducated by our standards, but I did not realise what a lesson I was in for. I was also there to watch the migration from the Serengeti into the Mara of wildebeest and zebra, but this meeting with Jomo was too good an opportunity to miss.

I already knew that Masaai were very tribal, feared to a degree by other African tribes, danced peculiarly by bouncing up and down on the spot, liked to dress in red, made up the majority of Askari’s (Kiswahili for security people) and were proud to be African, what else could I learn.

Jomo took water, coffee for me. Tell me about you childhood I asked, thinking this was a good place to start. “Childhood”, repeated Jomo, “just a waiting time before manhood”. He went on, explaining that he was born one of five brothers, he was the first born, not using the expression the eldest, I noticed. He did have a sister but she passed away. Jomo shrugged, in a matter of fact manner. I logged that, thinking surely he must care.

“I passed into manhood some years ago,” he continued

Do you have to go through a ritual for that I asked. I had to explain the word ritual and Jomo went on, “It used to be that we had to kill a lion, with our spear and alone, in order to pass through. Nowadays, we have to face down the lion and we kill a goat instead”. Jomo laughed revealing two rows of pearly white teeth, “even we are aware of conservation”, he added.

“I went out into the bush, my father and some others stood some way back, we all had our spears and we tracked lion for about half a day when we came across this pride, but they were all females with some cubs. That was no good, I had to face Simba, the dominant male before I could pass through. Could not find Simba so camped for the night. We heard him that night but can’t face lion at night, he sees better than us”.

“As the sun came up we followed the lion and saw, some way off, a fresh kill. The females had done the killing as normal but Simba was on hand to take the best bits of the Bushbuck. When he was full, the females and cubs could have the rest. Simba was between me and the rest (of the pride). This was my chance, I knew from teachings, (he actually meant story-telling), that Simba would be more mad if I interrupted him while he was eating. But, my passing through to manhood would be even better because Simba would be at his maddest”.

“I went towards him from downwind, I wanted to control the timing of our meeting, and didn’t want him to smell me, till I was ready. When I was about 100 paces away I called to him. Simba, Simba, I shouted. He turned and looked at me. I’m sure he was thinking ...what the..... I took a few steps towards him and up he stood. The females also looked at me but I would be safe from them because I knew if Simba left the Bushbuck they would go to that before coming after me. Its the easier meal and lions are very lazy. They seemed to know this was between Simba and me and they just waited for their chance to eat sooner rather than later”.

“He was in his prime, he growled this time, not a big roar more of a rumbling from deep inside, but I had got his attention. This was good, but my heart was pumping fast. I was slightly crouched, pointed end of the spear facing Simba. I looked back to see the others about 50 paces behind me. My father nodded at me. I looked to Simba once more”. Jomo took a sip of water, I had forgotten my coffee and had let it get cold.

“I took some more paces towards him and he did the same. His eyes fixed on mine as were mine on his. We were now 40 paces apart, this was it, my time was here. I will be man I said to myself. I stood upright, showing Simba I was not scared of him”.
Were you, I asked, Jomo ignored my question and I regretted my interjection.

“I shook my spear at him and shouted, he started to trot towards me. I could see he was measuring the distance, waiting for me to turn and run, then he would pick up speed and leap on my back, pull me to the floor and then bite into my neck strangling or breaking my neck. I stood still and Simba came on. He was probably ten paces away when I gave the biggest shout of my life and shook my spear at him. It was now or never. If I turn and run I am dead for sure, I would not have got back to my father and the other men before Simba reached me, if I face him down, I am a man”.

Jomo took another sip of water, well, I said, getting impatient, I had shuffled to the edge of my seat. Jomo smiled, What happened, I asked. Jomo gave a little laugh, “I’m here telling you about it”, was his reply. I felt stupid.

“After Simba turned away I felt something inside”, Jomo paused putting his clenched fist to the centre of his chest, the masaai are excellent at story telling and their use of pauses, voice inflection is wondrous, I stayed quiet having learnt my lesson a minute before, Jomo continued, “relief”

I smiled, I think I was supposed to as the trigger for Jomo to continue “It was feast time and my father was so proud of me. That made me very tall, the women prepared food, maize and ugali and the goat tasted very good that night, the women sang and the men ate. It was good. The men danced after the meal and I jumped the highest I have even jumped”.

How old were you when this happened, I asked, and after some deliberation and calculation of passing of moons we settled for 13.

I sat quiet for a while, and don’t remember how long for really. Jomo seemed happy at the silence. It was much later that I worked out that the longer my silence the better his story-telling.

After a while I asked him about the Masaai dancing. What was its meaning, its symbolism. Jomo was happy to explain, I had clearly taken in how brave and fearless he had been and what a good story-teller, “When the men dance it is to choose the fiercest warrior. The one who jumps highest and for longest is given the opportunity of being first into battle, that’s the biggest honour and many times ago, (he didn’t use the word years), battles with neighbours would be sorted by the two fiercest warriors battling to the death. Then only one person died and not all the men”. Do you know even now, if a masaai starts to jump in front of you he is preparing to do battle, even if that was an argument in the streets of Nairobi, our way is to jump first”

The thought that went through my mind was that it would be a perfect opportunity for me to high tail it out of there.

Do your women get involved in the dancing, I asked. Jomo replied “they have their things that they do but its not important. They prepare food, collect wood and water, service us, have and bring up our babies. We take little notice of them”. He went on, “the boys before they are men look after the cattle and goats” this seemed much more important information to give me, “after passing into manhood they no longer have to do that”.

It was then that I saw the correlation between masaai living and existing in the bush, co-habiting with wildlife and the way it impacts on human life. I found myself thinking back to the lion eating the bushbuck before interrupted by Jomo’s need to be a man. The ladies, the lionesses, do the work and step back for the man, the lion, to eat first, as with reproduction, the lion does his thing and walks away after. It’s a known fact that if a new male fights his way into a pride the lionesses accept him and accept the fact that he will kill any cubs not sired by him. It’s very similar for the masaai even today, just as it was for us in “civilised society” not so long ago. Is this where it stemmed from? Did we copy animals or did they copy us? Understanding this maybe should mean we don’t jump on our high horses to condemn, quite so quickly.

I did try to defend the position of women, after all I am civilised and fair trade through and through. I explained that each human has a right to mutually co-exist on the same level as any other, no matter what sex, gender, ethnicity, creed, but I’m pretty sure that Jomo’s response of “but they are only women” seemed sufficient for him.

It’s not right for us and I could not agree with him, but is it backward or discriminatory, yes for us, no for him. Is it right for the Masaai, they think so. I just can’t help thinking that the masaai women are not born by their own choice, and they do not choose where they live, but it is just that way. Do I have the right to try and force our way of sexual equality on Jomo or do I just disagree with him but defend his right to his way of life. This is my tussle, tradition versus future and until it is resolved I cannot do fair trade business with him.

I take some solace from the fact that Jomo did not kill the lion because of conservation, his word, and that is a step in the right direction, he just needs to take more steps.

Do let me know what you think.

Andrew Hind 

Jambohut.com

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